Fixers, Broken
by cbaybee
Summary: Bella is a call girl with a damaged past living in Brooklyn. Edward moves in across the hall, towing plenty of his own demons. Two people, struggling to do right by themselves, while trying to fight for eachother. AH. Lots of angst. Future lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This is my first time sharing my writing in a while, and the first time on this site. So be gentle! This intro gives you some insight into my version of Bella. Make sure to leave reviews and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is more than welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Twilight or any of its characters. Everything is property of the genius that is Stephenie Meyer.**

*****

_Another night, another 5 grand in my bank account._

I sighed as I stepped out of the hotel doors and the cool air hit my face, chasing away the last of my numbness. I quickly lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Every Wednesday night at 11 o'clock sharp, I would meet "Henry Doran" at the same exact hotel in Manhattan, in the same exact penthouse suite. And every Thursday morning, after our business was done, he would collapse and cry in my arms and tell me he was sorry, he didn't know what was wrong with him, he shouldn't be doing this, and he loved his wife and kids. I would rub his back and offer him some detached words of comfort, and when he would stop his hysterics long enough to pay me, I'd make my escape. And then the next week, the cycle repeated itself.

"Mr. Henry Doran" was the only regular client I had, whom I met with on a weekly basis. He was a really nice man, in his early forties, wealthy and moderately attractive: a bank executive, with a sex addiction that came complete with a terribly guilty conscience. The rest of my clients were usually one-shot deals. Some of them would set up dates with me once in a while, sometimes as their escort to parties or galas, sometimes just for sex. Either way, it was all business to me.

I dropped the butt of my cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out with the toe of my stiletto. The underground subway station was dirty and grimy and had this inexplicable stale smell that could only be New York. Wind blew the smell, and my hair, in a swift wave across my face as the train pulled up to the platform. I tucked it back behind my ears and stepped through the doors, thankful that there was a seat available. I was beat to shit. By the time the train pulled up to my station, I thought I would collapse in a heap right there on the grubby Brooklyn platform. I pulled myself from my seat, and up the stairs to the street. The sky was still dark, but I could see faint traces of the pinkish orange light of the October sunrise trying to break through the horizon. I glanced at the watch on my wrist as I walked. 5:38 AM. The sun wouldn't rise for at least another hour and a half. And fuck, I was tired. At least it was only two short blocks from the station to my apartment building.

I had been living in the same apartment since I first came to New York, three years ago when I turned eighteen, and I absolutely loved it. The heavy wooden front doors that I always needed two hands to pull open, the commercial red carpet in the off-white hallways that always smelled faintly of carpet shampoo and cigarettes, the stainless steel elevators, and the black metal staircase that people rarely used; it all felt like home to me. Brooklyn was home. From the bustling city, the perpetual traffic, the scorching summers and icy winters, it was a strange sort of comfort to know that everything around me was just as chaotic as the shit that went on in my head. In all my life, this was the only real home I'd ever known.

The elevator chimed and let me off into the hallway of the fourth floor. As I was walking toward the door of my apartment, a man came around the corner whistling cheerily and sporting a beaming smile that I had to return, despite my haggard state. Frankie was one of the tenants on my floor, and he was one of the nicest men I'd ever met in my life. He was in his late fifties, short, with a spare tire and thinning silver-gray hair. When I first moved in here, Frankie kind of took on the role of surrogate father to me. I was only eighteen, and he worried about me being so young and on my own in the big city. He would stop by my apartment everyday to see how I was holding up, and even insisted on bringing me dinner every evening. After a few weeks of this, I invited him over and made dinner for him so that he could rest assured I was capable of cooking and wouldn't be living off of fast food and takeout, or "the artery clogging shit trap they call food" as he referred to it. And after he checked my trashcan to make sure I wasn't trying to fool him with takeout, he was satisfied that I could take care of myself. We still had dinner once in a while, though, and I made sure to see him a few times a week, even if just in passing in the hallway.

"Good morning, Isabella." He chimed in his pleasantly husky, heavy Brooklyn accent. I'd told him to call me Bella a million times, but he never would. So I just let it go.

"Morning Frankie."

"Another late night?"

I sighed wearily. "When isn't it?"

"I don't know how you do it every night. I guess you young people have the stamina to stay up so late, huh?"

"Oh, stop it. You know you're still a spring chicken." I shook my head. "I swear, you just say things like that to fish for compliments."

He chuckled softly and pressed the button for the elevator. "I take em' where I can get em'. Now, you get in there and get some rest before I have to make you up a bed right here in the hallway. By the looks of you, I'd say you're going to pass out in about three seconds."

"I'd say you're right." I smiled and pulled my key out of my purse. "Have a good day, Frankie."

"Have a good sleep, Isabella." The elevator chimed just then, and he gave me a short wave before he disappeared behind its doors. I sighed and pushed through my front door, locking the deadbolt and chain lock behind me. The first thing I noticed in the darkness of my cozy studio apartment was the red light blinking on my kitchen counter. I started walking toward the kitchen when I felt silky fur rubbing against my legs. I leaned down and picked up my cat, cradling him against my chest as I walked. He rested his paws on my chest and licked my chin. His tongue was like sandpaper.

"Hey, Little P. Did you miss mommy?" I switched on the lights over the center island and went to the phone base. One new voice message. "Who Ieft us a message, huh, pretty boy?" I cooed to my cat, and he purred as I stroked his back. I pressed the button on the answering machine.

"You have one new voice message. First message sent today at 1:43 AM: "Bella, it's your mother. Why don't you ever pick up the fucking phone? You think you'd call the woman who gave birth to you once in a while." There was a muted crashing noise in the background, and then her slurring voice was away from the phone. "Shit, Phil. Fuck. Just clean it up. We'll order pizza or something." Her voice came back directly into the receiver. "Anyways, call me when you get this, okay? You better call me. It's important. Bye."

I snorted quietly and pressed the delete button without hesitation. _There goes my good mood_, I thought. No fucking way was I calling her back. I talked to her a few times a year, on holidays and shit like that, but that was it. That was enough for me. Whenever she called me, just like this time no doubt, she would want something from me; particularly to borrow money. And I just couldn't. I wouldn't give her money so her and her asshole of a husband could go get hammered or stoned or whatever the fuck it was they did these days. I left to get away from that. I wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

Growing up, I spent my time split between two places, and two completely different parenting styles. If you could call my mother a fucking parent. I primarily lived in Phoenix with the alcoholic mess that was my mother Renee, and for a month out of every summer I spent my time in the podunk town of Forks, Washington with my father Charlie, or as he was known around town, Police Chief Swan. When I was in Forks, Charlie would drag me to all sorts of cliché kid shit, like the zoo, the circus, carnivals, and fishing trips. It was his idea of bonding, and hell if I didn't love every minute that I spent with my father. Bonding between Renee and I consisted of me carrying her to her bed when she had a few too many, and wiping puke off her face. And it only got worse when she married that prick Phil, and he introduced drugs into her life. I hated the fact that I never got to be a child at home; I had to be the adult, taking care of my mother's sloppy ass, since as long as I could remember. My dad made sure that I had some glimmer of childhood innocence in my life, tainted as I already was.

I sighed out loud, long and heavy. Every time she fucking called, it forced these memories to the forefront of my mind. All I had wanted three minutes ago was to fall into my bed and pass out, but now, I grabbed the bottle of vodka from the back of my freezer and poured a generous amount down my throat, preparing for the wallowing. I didn't have the patience to pull out a glass. A few tears fell from my eyes as I thought of my father.

I missed Charlie more than anything in the world. My visits with him as a child were the only reprieve I had from the sick twisted nightmare that had been my life. He was my only comfort in the entire world, and he was taken from me. Five months before Charlie died, he filed for sole custody of me. And won. I was elated when I found out that I got to live with him, that for the first time in my short life, I could be carefree and happy. I had a chance at some semblance of a normal upbringing. I barked out a bitter laugh and took another long swig from the cold bottle. _The fucking irony_. True to the fucked up form of my life, my dad died two weeks before I was supposed to move in with him permanently. I was seven years old.

I completely shut down emotionally after that. Being so close to freedom and my father, only to have it snatched away so violently from my reach, had made me all but catatonic. Instead of trying to fight it, I welcomed it; even taught myself how to bring on the coldness, so that I couldn't be hurt anymore. Anytime I felt the anger, pain, abandonment, or loneliness creeping up on me, I would grab hold of my numbness and let it consume me. I got so good at it that sometimes, I could block out entire days and never remember anything that happened during them. It was the only way I survived.

After my father's death, I made the decisions that ultimately led me to where I am today. I promised myself that as soon as I turned eighteen, I would be free. And from then on, every single dime that I received, whether it be from birthdays, or Christmas, or allowances, went into a coffee can under my bed. When I turned thirteen, one of my friend's got me a job waiting tables at her family's diner in downtown Phoenix, and I worked there until I gave my two weeks notice, two weeks before my eighteenth birthday. Charlie left everything he had to me. In his will, he specifically noted that the house should be sold, and every penny from that sale, his pension, and his bank account, should be put into a trust fund that I couldn't touch until I was eighteen. I suspected that it was a rigorous attempt on his part to keep my mother's money-grubbing hands off of what was rightfully mine. So, between everything I had saved up, and everything I had inherited, I was well set up to start my new life. I packed up all my shit, bought a one-way ticket to New York City, and in the early morning hours on September 13, I said my final goodbye to my mom and her asshole husband. I left that shitty house in a yellow cab, with close to $10,000 in my wallet, more in the bank, and never looked back.

I pulled myself out of my bitter memories, willing myself not to think about the past anymore. It always made me oddly queasy and I got the urge to hurl things at my wall. And I was entirely too tired to clean up any kind of mess right now. Instead, I took another big gulp of vodka and put the bottle back into the freezer. Immediately, I stripped off my clothes and jumped into the shower. The hot water was calming and soothing, and the ethereal steam combined with the liquor flowing through my system lulled me back into exhaustion. I turned off the water and wrung out my soaking hair, slipped into a t-shirt and boy shorts, pulled my dark curtains over the window, and, at last, at last, climbed into bed. Paul Jr. was already curled up on the pillow beside the one I slept on. I had tried buying him one of those little cat beds, but he refused to sleep anywhere but right beside me. So I gave in, of course. I was a sucker for that cat. I kissed him on top of his little orange head, and pulled the covers over me. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so I didn't get many reviews, but I'm going to keep going with this story. It's been developing itself in my head for a while now, so I can't find it in my heart to stop. Tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters (though I do wish I owned Edward). Everything is property of Ms. Meyer.**

*

A loud knock at my front door pulled me out of my dreamless sleep with a start. Disoriented, I glanced around the dark room, and my eyes came to rest on the alarm clock on my nightstand. 11:17 AM.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me right now." I mumbled to myself as another knock sounded on the door. I had no idea who it could be, and whoever it was better be ready for a tongue-lashing. Everyone in this building knew about my weird work hours, under the pretense that I worked as a bartender at an upscale VIP club in Manhattan, so they knew not to disturb me this early in the day. _The building better be on fucking fire_. I got out of bed and stumbled clumsily to the front door, with Paul at my heels. Nosy fucking cat. "Fuck!" Of course, I smashed my hip into the small table in my hallway. Naturally. I finally made it to the door and unlocked the deadbolt, leaving the chain lock intact, and opened the door as much as the chain would allow. I was ready to inflict my ire on whoever was on the other side.

Outside of my door was a man I had never seen before in my life. He was standing with his body facing toward me, his face turned to the side, one of his hands stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He turned to face me when he heard the door open, and an apologetic smile pulled at his lips when he saw my expression. I was way too tired to even register his face, let alone the expression on my own. I was pretty sure that it wasn't very welcoming though. I stared up at him, without really seeing him, waiting. My mind was completely fixated on the bed 30 feet behind me.

"Hi." He said in a low, attractive voice. "I'm sorry to bother you. Um, I'm just moving in, like today, across the hall. My brother is coming with the moving truck, but I think he might have gotten lost, and my cell phones dead. Do you think I could borrow your phone?"

I was pretty sure he flinched when he saw my face change in reaction to what he just said to me. He was interrupting my sleep to use a phone? _For fuck's sake!_ "Are you serious? Fuck. Uh, yeah, sure. Hold on a second."

I closed the door and walked over to the kitchen counter to grab my house phone off the base. "Just go back to bed, Paul." I mumbled. "Apparently, some douche bag has never heard of a fucking cell phone charger." Paul looked up at me, cocked his head, then turned and hopped up on to the bed. I walked back toward the door, mumbling obscenities the whole way. Or at least I thought I was mumbling. I must have been talking to myself louder than I'd thought, because by the expression on this stranger's face when I opened the door again, undoing the chain lock this time, he had heard every word I said. If I had been a little more alert, I probably would have been embarrassed. But as it was, I didn't give a shit.

"Here." I said, handing him the phone.

"Thanks." He didn't meet my eyes as he took the phone and began dialing. He pressed it to his ear, stuffed one of his hands into his pocket again, and turned his face to look down the hallway. I leaned my head against the doorjamb and closed my eyes. "Hey, Em. It's me… my phone died; I'm using one of my neighbor's… Where are you?… What street are you on?… Just let me talk to Jazz… Hey Jazz, where... Okay, so just take a left… Yeah… Then take two rights, and you'll see a corner store… Yeah, that's the one. So just keep going straight, and then take another left, and you'll see my car out front… All right. I'll go outside then. See you in a few." He must have hung up the phone, and he cleared his throat loudly, probably with the intention being for me to open my eyes. I did just that, and he held out the phone to me. I took it. "Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. And, sorry, again, for bothering you."

"Yeah." I said, and without another word, I turned back into my apartment and shut and locked the door behind me. I dropped the phone on the ground, not quite caring where it went right now, and threw myself on to my bed. I sighed back into unconsciousness.

*

I woke up after 2:30pm, feeling refreshed and oddly exuberant. I jumped out of bed and padded over to the window, pulling the black drapes back and securing them in their wrought iron tieback hooks. The day was beautiful outside of my window, the sky a perfect blue with sparse fluffy white clouds scattered about, the sun shining brightly. But the branches of the few trees along the street bent back, their brightly colored leaves blowing violently, betraying the true windiness of the day. A few red, orange, and yellow leaves broke away and fell to the ground as I watched with a smile on my lips. Autumn was my favorite season.

I went to my dresser and put on a pair of black skinny jeans and pulled a deep blue v-neck sweater over my head. I put a brush through my hair, smoothing out the soft waves that had formed while I slept. It was a good thing I hadn't slept restlessly; my hair had no trepidations against tangling itself into complete unmanageability.

As I got ready for the day, in my newly cheerful state, I remembered the interruption that had irritated me so much. The man showing up at my door, waking me up; my abrupt unpleasantness. Fuck. The poor guy only wanted to use the phone, and I probably made him feel like shit for asking. Not to mention, he probably thought I was a huge bitch. And since he was apparently going to be my new neighbor, finally renting out the apartment diagonal from mine that had been empty for two months, I felt the need to make it up to him. The last thing I needed was an enemy in this building, especially one who lived across the hall from me.

I figured I'd bake him a batch of cookies. That was a very neighborly thing to do, right? Besides, I loved to bake. I'd taught myself to cook when I was really young, because that was the only way I could get real food into my stomach. Renee definitely wasn't going to do any cooking. If it had been up to her, we'd probably have starved, or lived off of pizza. Watching the Food Network constantly made me curious about baking, and the first time I tried it, (making a damn near perfect carrot cake if I do say so myself, at the ripe age of 8) I instantly fell in love with it. I could spend hours in the kitchen, mixing batters, beating dough, and frosting cakes. It was a little slice of peace for me. And over the years, I just kept getting better at it. So, I decided a batch of homemade peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips would be a nice way to welcome this new man to the building, and to apologize for my less than ideal first impression.

I had two and a half dozen cookies out of the oven, and two dozen of them on to a white serving platter by four o'clock. I couldn't resist making an extra half dozen for myself. My studio apartment was filled with the smell of chocolaty peanut butter goodness. I covered the cookies with plastic wrap and marched straight out of my apartment to the door adjacent to mine. It was slightly ajar, and I could see a ton of boxes covering the floor of the hallway. I didn't know if anyone was inside, or if he was off getting more boxes or something. I knocked, and the door fell open a little more. I could see a man's back and arms, and he seemed to be crouching over something, but the wall obscured his face from view. He must have heard me knock, because he straightened and took a step back to look down the hallway toward me. My heart did an uncomfortable little jump, and settled in my throat.

It was the same man who had been standing outside of my door, of that I was absolutely positive. Only now, without the weariness of sleep to cloud my mind, I could actually take him in. And, my God, was he a lot to take in. He was easily ten inches taller than my 5'4", and as far as I could tell, every inch of him was toned. He was wearing a white beater that hugged his generously muscled chest and showed off his sculpted arms. Veins and tendons were visible under his pale white skin, but not in that disgusting overly muscled way. It was subtle. Obviously, this man worked out, but he didn't over do it. He stayed in shape… and what spectacular shape that was. I bit down on my bottom lip. He walked toward me, and I finally stopped gawking at his exquisite body and brought my eyes up to his face. His perfectly angular jaw line was covered in a little bit of scruff, as if he hadn't shaved this morning. I had to hold back a moan. One side of his perfect mouth was pulled up into a tentative half smile, so obviously he recognized me, and hadn't forgotten about our encounter earlier. He ran a hand through his messy, tousled bronze hair- sex hair- and looked at me with confusion in his eyes. _Those eyes_. There were light purple bags underneath them, like he hadn't been getting much sleep, but it didn't take away from their intoxicating beauty. They were the same color of emeralds, but different somehow. They weren't hard like the gem… it was like looking into a deep pool of green. I suddenly had a desire to melt under his gaze. Yes, that's what it was. The sparkling green was melted, like liquid. Liquid emeralds. He was beautiful.

He cleared his throat like he had earlier, only now it was a nervous sound, and I realized I was blatantly gaping at him. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and I looked down at the cookies in my hands. What the fuck was wrong with me? I never let guys get to me, no matter how gorgeous they were. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and looked up at him.

"Hi." I said, and almost laughed at the anticlimactic greeting.

"Um, hi." He said awkwardly.

"Here." I held the tray of cookies out to him, even though he was still a few feet away.

Confusion touched his eyes. "Those are for me?" He pointed to the cookies.

"Oh, yeah. I just…um…" _Get your fucking head on. You sound like a moron._ "I wanted to apologize for being so rude earlier." I gave him a small smile.

He took a few steps down the hall, closer to me. "You didn't have to do all that. It's fine, really. I'm the one who should be apologizing for disturbing you."

"No, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know I was asleep. Normal people are usually up at that time of day."

"Not always. People sleep in, I get that. I should have just gone to a pay phone or something instead of bothering anyone."

"That's ridiculous! You can use my phone anytime. For free." _Whoa, reel it in Bella, before you hurt yourself._ "It's just, well, for future reference, I work really weird hours, and usually don't get home until really late- or really early in the morning, I should say. So, when you knocked on my door, it was kind of the equivalent to 3 in the morning to me."

He put his hand through his hair again. I had a feeling he did that a lot. "Wow. Well, in that case, I don't really blame you. If some random person I'd never met before came knocking at my door, waking me up at 3 in the morning, I'd be pretty pissed too. I probably would've been a lot more of a prick than you were." He smiled, and I chuckled lightly.

"Maybe…but you had no way of knowing, so I shouldn't have been such a bitch. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You weren't being a bitch."

I snorted. "Uh huh, sure I wasn't. Admit it. I was in complete icy bitch mode."

"No, you were perfectly normal. No bitch mode at all." I cocked an eyebrow at him, not believing it for one second. I knew I was being a bitch. Hell, I was trying to be a bitch. He wasn't fooling me, and he knew it. He sighed and smiled slightly. "Okay, fine. You were kind of being a bitch. But now I understand why."

"Sorry."

"Will you stop fucking apologizing already? We're good. I'm not going to hold it against you."

I held the tray out to him. "Fine. So, consider this my apology then, and an official welcome to the building. Apology accepted?"

He took the tray and his eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "These look delicious." He turned around and walked further into his apartment. "You don't have to stand in the hallway. Come in." I stepped a few feet inside until I was at the end of the hallway. He wove around boxes to place the tray on his kitchen counter. He pulled back the plastic wrap and took one of the cookies, taking a bite and chewing it slowly as he walked back over to me. "Mmm. They _are_ delicious. Okay, apology definitely accepted." He took another bite, chewed it, and swallowed. I couldn't help watching the way his throat moved when he did that. _Are you fucking kidding me? Get a grip, whack job._ "You really made these, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you might have just put some Chips Ahoy in the microwave and wrapped them up to look homemade. But these are too good to be the store bought shit."

"Why would I do that?" I said, a little confused by his assumption.

He shrugged as he downed the rest of the cookie in one bite. "I don't know. It's what I would have done. Then again, I can't bake for shit, and obviously you can." His lips pulled up into a crooked smile.

"Well, thanks. But I don't cut corners. Besides, store bought cookies… what kind of apology would that be?"

He grimaced. "If you say the words apology, apologize, or sorry one more time, I'm going to bang on your door every single morning at 8AM sharp." He said sternly, with a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

"Do your worst, neighbor boy. But I won't be held accountable for any severed limbs you may receive in the process." I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow.

He put his hands up, palms forward, in surrender. "Okay, okay. No more apologies, no wake up calls. Deal?"

"Deal." I held out my hand to him. "I'm Bella Swan, by the way. Also known as the grouchy bitch in 408."

He took my hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you, bitch. I'm Edward Cullen, but you can call me the sleep depriving prick in 407."

"The pleasures all mine, prick." We laughed together. His laughter was like music, low and deep and soulful. I got lost in it for a moment, before forcing myself to get a grip. Damn him for being so fucking perfect. My cell phone started vibrating in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, thankful for the distraction. It was a text message from my best friend Alice.

B, u awake? wnna grab a bite? – A

I shoved my phone back into my pocket without replying to her text. I'd just call her when I got back inside my apartment. I looked back up at Edward, and he was staring at me with a smile on his face. I couldn't help but smile back. I had a feeling that he and I were really going to get along after all. "So, I have to go."

He turned and looked around his apartment for a moment, then turned toward me and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sure. I have some organizing I have to get to, anyways."

"So, do you have all your stuff here already, or…?" I looked around the studio. It was the same size as mine, and pretty much the same exact set up, only flipped because it was on the opposite side. He didn't really have much stuff here. Pretty much all that was there were boxes. This couldn't be everything.

"No. We're bringing over all the furniture tomorrow."

"Oh, so you're not staying here tonight?" I felt my face fall a little. Why did I care? The lack of nicotine must be making me go a little loopy. I desperately needed to get outside and have a cigarette. Immediately.

"No. I'm just getting all my shit squared away, then I'm heading up to stay at my parents' place. They only live an hour away."

"Cool. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow. And thanks for the cookies."

"Anytime." I took in one last long look of him in his fitted white beater that left little to the imagination, then I turned and walked out of his apartment, heading straight to mine. I grabbed my pack of cigarettes out of my purse, my lighter, and opened my window, crouching out on to the fire escape. It was a little chillier outside than I had expected. I lit my cigarette and took a long drag, curling my arms around myself. The smoke felt good in my lungs, and I took another long puff, relishing in my first cigarette of the day. Usually I would have had one when I first woke up, but I'd been preoccupied with making amends for my bitchtastic first impression. Paul hopped up on to the low windowpane and sat down. He always sat in the window when I was out here, but he would never set paw on the fire escape. He hated being outside, period. He went apeshit if I took him within two feet of the apartment building's front door.

"Scaredy cat." He looked at me for a long moment then stood up, turned around with his trail lifted up to show me his ass, and jumped back into the house. That was his way of telling me to go fuck myself. I laughed and took another drag of my cigarette. My cat, the over-sensitive agoraphobic.

***EPOV**

Today was not going to be my day, not at all. I should've known better than to trust fucking Emmett with driving the moving truck down to Brooklyn. With his sense of direction, I wouldn't be surprised if he were somewhere in North Carolina by now. The man could work miracles when it came to getting lost. And then, the icing on the shit cake that is my life, my cell phone has to go and die. I knew exactly where my charger was; in back of the moving truck. Fuck me.

My only choices were to either walk a few blocks to the nearest pay phone, or knock on one of my new neighbors' door and ask to use their phone. I opted for the latter, figuring I'd kill two birds with one stone, get in touch with Emmett and meet a new neighbor. I wish I'd fucking chosen the pay phone.

I knocked on the door directly diagonal from mine across the hallway. I didn't hear any movement from inside, so I knocked again, a little louder this time. Then I heard a low, muffled female's voice and the sound of footsteps walking toward the door. There was a loud banging, followed by an even louder "Fuck!" Whoever this girl was, she didn't sound like she much appreciated the interruption. I looked away from the door, down the hall, and rubbed the back of my neck. This was going to be awkward.

I turned back toward the door when I heard it open. The chain lock on the door only allowed it to open so far, but from what I could see of her heavily shadowed face, it was twisted up into the death glare to end all death glares. I smiled apologetically toward her, and even though I was almost a foot taller than her, I inwardly felt myself shrinking to about the size of an ant under her glare. She had her head resting against the doorjamb, and was looking up at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised in annoyance. Her eyes were the only things not completely cast in darkness, and they were penetrating, prominent, even clouded with sleep and rimmed with unmistakable bags as they were. They weren't the normal, dull color brown that you see on most people. They were warm and deep, dark and lovely, the exact color of milk chocolate, if not the same texture. She looked exhausted, and I figured I must have woken her up.

"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you. Um, I'm just moving in, like today, across the hall. My brother is coming with the moving truck, but I think he might have gotten lost, and my cell phones dead. Do you think I could borrow your phone?"

I cringed as her eyes glinted with disbelief and fury. "Are you serious? Fuck. Uh, yeah, sure. Hold on a second." She turned back into the house and just about slammed the door as she went. I swallowed hard. _Great first impression, Cullen. You already have one of your new neighbors hating you. Brav-fucking-o._ I heard her speaking to someone as she walked through her apartment. "Just go back to bed, Paul. Apparently, some douche bag has never heard of a fucking cell phone charger." Even better. I prayed that whoever this fucking Paul guy was, he wouldn't come out and punch me in the face for waking them up. I was way too tired for a fight right now. The girl was still grumbling as I heard her footsteps come back toward the door. The words "asshole" "prick" and "mother fucker" came up more than a few times. This chick had quite the mouth on her. I pressed my lips together, to keep myself from laughing or yelling, I really didn't know, as she opened the door all the way this time.

I was absolutely stunned as I took in her full form. _Damn, is she fucking hot, or what?_ "Here." She handed me the phone. I thanked her without meeting her eyes and dialed Emmett's cell phone number. She leaned her head against the doorjamb and closed her eyes, and I took the opportunity to surreptitiously ogle her as I gave up on giving Emmett directions and tried explaining them to my other brother, Jasper. My sexy new neighbor was wearing a loose fitting white t-shirt, with a pair of blue striped boy shorts that mocked the look of men's boxer briefs. They were the sexiest things I had ever fucking seen in my life. Not to mention her legs went on for days. She was pale, but not in an unflattering way; it fit her. I raked my eyes over her face, which was not set into an angry glare now that her eyes were closed. She actually looked peaceful.

Her face was soft and feminine, but with a hard edge to it somehow. Almost… defensive. Guarded. But very vulnerable somehow. The delicate pale skin of her face stood in striking contrast to the dark mahogany hair that fell in messy waves around her shoulders. Her pink lips were plump and full and slightly out of balance; the top lip a bit too full to match the bottom one. She was beautiful. Too bad she was such a bitch.

I hung up the phone and cleared my throat, and her eyes opened slowly. I held the phone out to her. "Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. And, sorry, again, for bothering you."

"Yeah." She said, and turned back into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Yeah, definitely a bitch. I would do my best to avoid her from now on.

I took the elevator downstairs and lit a cigarette as soon as I got outside, waiting for my brothers to pull up. Emmett and Jasper weren't my brothers by blood; we were adopted siblings. Our parents, Carlisle and Esme, had adopted me when I was 14. Emmett and Jasper had been adopted before me, when Jasper was 9 and Emmett was 12. My birth parents died in a plane crash when I was a baby, so I didn't remember anything about them. I was put through the system and all the depressing shit that entailed. And then, by a circuitous route of fucked up events, Carlisle and I met, and then he adopted me. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and I could never fully express how grateful I am that Carlisle and Esme took me in. They were my parents in every way that counted, just as Emmett and Jasper were my older brothers. I loved them all, and they loved me; it was unconventional, but we were a family.

Jasper and I were both bachelors at the moment, but Emmett was happily married. His marriage came about in a very fucked up way. Emmett's wife, Rosalie, had been in the picture when I came to the Cullen's, but not as Emmett's girlfriend, exactly. Emmett and Rose were what they openly referred to as "fuck buddies." It was all really cliché, he was the big shot football player, and she was the hot cheerleader he would fuck behind the bleachers after every home game. They went on like that for years, bumping uglies with no strings attached, even after they graduated. Until one day, it reached a point in their relationship of sorts where something had to change, or they just had to end it. So they flew to Vegas and eloped. It made no fucking sense to me, but after they got married, they were happier than I'd ever seen either of them. Go figure. I was happy for them though; Rosalie was a bitch, blunt and crude, and definitely not afraid to say exactly what was on her mind without a filter. But she was great, and I loved her to death, loved her like a sister.

The moving truck finally pulled up to the curb, and I let out a sigh of relief. "About fucking time." I yelled toward them. Emmett just glared at me and went around to the back of the truck. Jasper smirked, and we both went to join Emmett. The next few hours were spent hauling boxes up to my new apartment. There wasn't really that much stuff; we wouldn't be moving my furniture in until tomorrow, so after all the boxes were unloaded I told the guys to go home.

Before they left, Jasper clapped me on the shoulder. "You're doing something really good for yourself, here, Edward. A lot of people wouldn't have the strength to walk away. I'm proud of you. We all are."

I smiled at him and nodded my head. "I appreciate that. Thanks. I think… I really needed to hear that."

"No problem. See you at home."

After they left, I started organizing boxes to where they needed to go. There wasn't all that much to do, since my mother wrote where each box went in big black letters, and since it was a studio apartment, everything pretty much went in one room. That's what I was doing when I heard a soft knock at my front door. I stood up and looked down the hallway, first noticing that apparently Jasper and Emmett were under the impression that I live in a barn, and then realizing who it was that was knocking on my door. It was the Hot Bitch. God, what the hell did she want? To fucking scowl at me some more? Only, she didn't have a murderous glare on her face now. She looked almost timid. A little embarrassed, even. She just stood there, bottom lip between her teeth, staring at me. Looking me up and down. Or maybe that was just my mind playing tricks on me. Damn, she was sexy. _Hot woman, standing in your doorway. Don't just fucking stand there!_

I started walking down the hall toward her, and she brought her eyes up to meet mine. I smiled tentatively, and ran my hand through my hair; a nervous habit. She didn't smile, but she didn't grimace either. She just stood there, still worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Maybe biting her lip was her nervous habit. I cleared my throat, and a blush rushed to her cheeks and she looked at her hands. Her skin was cream and roses, and God, was it fucking beautiful, especially against the deep blue of the sweater she was wearing. After a long moment, she looked up with a determined look on her face.

"Hi."

She spent the next few minutes apologizing to me for being so unpleasant earlier. Apparently, she had a job that required her to work into the middle of the night, and she slept late into the day. I forgave her easily, and was surprised to realize that I actually liked this girl, first impressions aside. She was sarcastic, and blunt, and obviously not afraid to admit when she was wrong. The fact that she brought me cookies that were better than anything I'd ever tasted didn't hurt either. I was a sucker for baked goods. After she left, I felt a strange sense of relief. At least I didn't have any enemies in the building now. On the contrary, maybe I could actually have a friend here. I smiled to myself as I got back to organizing boxes.

*

**Next up: More Edward & the Cullen's… and some Alice!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews. I'm so glad that people seem to be liking this so far.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight of its characters. Everything belongs to Ms. Stephenie Meyer.**

* **BPOV**

"So, why exactly did you take so long to get back to me?" Alice asked, taking a sip of her red wine. We were sitting in a booth at our favorite little Italian restaurant in Bensonhurst, and true to form, she was prodding for every single detail of my monotonous existence. She was so nosy and pressing, something that both endlessly annoyed and amused me, and I always teased her about it. But that was just Alice.

"I was busy apologizing to my fuckable new neighbor for being Queen Eliza-bitch today." I told her nonchalantly, stabbing a shrimp and popping it into my mouth. Alice chuckled and choked on her wine.

"I'm sorry, what?" She asked, still chuckling and wiping at her mouth with a napkin. I smiled and laughed.

"A new guy just moved in across the hall from me. And he knocked on my door, because he needed to use my phone." I paused and arched one eyebrow at her. "At 11 o'clock this morning."

She nodded understandingly. "And, did you just kick him in the balls or did you go with the full on castration?" She asked casually, putting a forkful of ziti into her mouth.

"I was way too tired to do either. I just settled for glaring and cursing like a truck driver."

"Nothing too out of the ordinary then?"

"Nope." I answered, popping the 'p'. "But seeing as I am going to have to live across the hall from him for who knows how long, I figured I might as well try and be civil. I made him cookies."

"You and your magical fucking cookies." She exclaimed, and giggled. Alice rarely ever swore when she was out in public, but when it was just me and her hanging out at one of our houses, she was just as bad as me. I, on the other hand, had no filter when it came to obscenities, no matter where I was.

I lifted my fork and pointed it at her sternly. "Hey, don't knock my cookies. They happen to be very delicious."

"I'm not, and trust me, I _know_ they are. But you think baked goods fix everything. If I told you World War III would break out tomorrow, you'd probably bake a couple of rum cakes and send them to the other countries as a peace offering." I glared at her, while making a mental note to bake a pineapple rum cake sometime soon. Alice stuck her tongue out at me. We both took a few bites of our food and sipped our wine in silence for a few minutes. "So, tell me about this new neighbor of yours. I believe you used the term 'fuckable'?"

I shook my head. "Alice, I can't even… ugh." I closed my eyes and stifled a groan as images of Edward in his snug white beater flashed through my mind. I felt a blush heat my skin, and when I opened my eyes, Alice was staring at me, wide-eyed. "He looks like… like a fucking God, that's what. Gorgeous."

Alice raised her delicate eyebrows at me, and her pixie face was suddenly all business. "Details, Bella. I want details. Every last one of them."

This is where Alice and I had the most problems, communication wise. She was always digging for details, details, details, and I was terrible with descriptions. I took a deep breath and tried my best to give her a suitable explanation of my beyond sexy new neighbor. "Okay. Um… he's pretty tall, definitely over six feet, and his body…" I bit down on my lip. "He's really toned, muscles all over…but not in that muscle-head kind of way. He's lean. And he has this insanely sexy coppery-bronze colored hair, like nothing I've ever seen before in my life." She was leaning toward me, intent on lapping up every point of my inept description. "Emerald green eyes, pale skin, sexy smile, chiseled jaw… and he was scruffy, too. _Scruffy_. I swear, this man was put on earth with the sole purpose of getting me all hot and bothered." I sighed in exasperation. "I'm getting worked up just thinking about it."

Alice cocked an eyebrow. "Bella… do you like him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. I only talked to him once -well glared at him once and talked to him once- but he seems nice enough." I trailed off as I looked up at her and saw the disparaging look on her face. "What?"

"No. I mean do you _like him_ like him?"

"What is this, junior high?" I sighed. "Yes Alice. Actually, when I get back home, I'm planning on going over to his apartment, professing my undying love for him, and asking him to marry me. I know it's a little backwards, but I just can't stand to live another day without him."

She nodded slowly with a thoughtful look on her face. "Well Bella, I'm glad you've decided to take things so slowly." She stared at me with that same serious expression for a long moment, and then as if on cue, we both burst into laughter. After we recovered from our fit of schoolgirl giggles, and took a few more sips of our wine, she cleared her throat and looked at me again, hesitantly this time.

"What is it, Alice?"

"I've just… I've been thinking a lot lately." She sighed, and her brow furrowed. "Seriously, Bella… do you ever think about… dating?"

I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled loudly. "Wow. I don't know. I guess… I mean, sure, I've thought about it a few times. But last time I checked, doing what we do for a living and having a relationship weren't exactly compatible factors." I shook my head. "Honestly, I don't even think I'd _know how_ to be in a relationship. For starters, I've never actually been in one. And for the last three years, I've reconciled the idea of sex with business, you know? Detachment. I really don't know how I'd be able to associate it with emotions or whatever. This whole… habitually detaching myself thing, it's been a part of me for so long. I don't know how to break that habit."

"Well, you never know, Bells. Maybe, if the right guy comes along…" She smiled encouragingly.

"I don't think so. I just… I really don't think the whole falling in love and living happily ever after thing is in the cards for me." I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm okay with that." Alice's face fell. I added quickly, "But it's different for you, Alice. You'll find someone to love who will love you the way you deserve. You'll leave this job, open up your boutique, get married, and have lots of pretty babies."

Her face lifted a little at that, but her eyes still held on to the sadness. "And, you don't think any of that will happen for you." She didn't say it as a question, nor did she mean it as one. She knew that was exactly what I thought.

I smiled. "Don't worry about me. I already have the one man I'll ever need in my life. His name is Paul."

With that, the heaviness of the moment was over, and Alice and I were back to our normal banter. "Are we talking about your cat here, or your failure, no, refusal to accept the fact that Paul McCartney has aged past the year of 1970, and is now exactly-"

I put both of my index fingers into my ears, squeezed my eyes shut, and started humming loudly to block out her voice. After a few seconds, I felt her pull on my arm. I opened my eyes and pulled my fingers out of my ears. "Are you finished?" I said harshly.

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll stop. Geez. I'll just let you and your delusions live happily ever after."

"You know, if you were half the best friend you claim to be, you would indulge my delusions instead of trying to dispel them. I do that for you." I said matter-of-factly as I scooped up some pasta and the last, lonely little shrimp on my plate.

"Oh?" Alice said, cocking an eyebrow. It was a challenge.

I nodded as I chewed and held up one finger, signaling her to wait. When I swallowed my food, I said, "Take, for example, your inexplicable attraction to Emile Hirsch."

"What do you mean? Emile Hirsch is hot." She looked genuinely shocked. I almost burst into laughter. I held back my giggles and maintained my cool, calm, businesslike voice when I spoke.

"No, Alice. Emile Hirsch is definitely not hot. Emile Hirsch is a huge douche bag."

"Not that I'm agreeing with you, but just because someone is a douche bag, doesn't mean they can't be sexy."

"Actually, it does. See, depending on how much of a douche bag you are, your hotness can go down anywhere from 1 to 20 points. Emile Hirsch is a complete and total douche bag; therefore, he gets the full 20 points taken off. And, seeing as his hot points were only at like, 7, to begin with, as a result of his douchiness, he is now in with the likes of Gary Busey and Steve Buscemi."

She gagged. "That's just plain disturbing, Bella. And untrue." She shook her head. "No way."

"Yes way. Don't shoot the messenger, that's just how the system works. There are only two people on the entire planet who think Emile Hirsch is hot; you and Emile Hirsch."

She leaned back in her chair, folded her dainty arms across her chest, and narrowed her eyes at me. "Paul McCartney is 67 years old."

I dropped my fork. It hit the plate with a loud 'clank'. "Bitch."

Her face was smug. "Now, both of our delusions are ruined for the day. Satisfied?"

Just then, the waiter came over with the bill. We split it even-Steven like we always did. When we got outside, I started shuffling around in my purse for a cigarette and my lighter. As I was looking through it, I remembered something.

"Oh, and, for the record Alice, I was talking about my cat earlier, thank you very much. Although, you should know, Paul Jr. is actually the lovechild of Paul McCartney and I." I put my cigarette in my mouth and lit it.

Alice just shook her head. "Isabella Swan, you are so demented."

"Yeah, but you hang out with me. So you must be pretty demented too." We both laughed and continued on with our banter as we headed for the subway. My phone started ringing almost as soon as we got to that platform. I pulled it out of my purse and read the text.

**Mr. Roy McDaniels. Tribeca Grand Hotel. Room 628. 9:00 pm.**

"Who is it?" Alice asked.

"The agency. I have to meet a client at 9."

"Didn't you work last night? Ugh, I hate it when I have to work two nights in a row."

I put my phone back into my bag. "Yeah, well, I'll just take this meeting anyways. If I work tonight, I'll have a three-day weekend. They won't book me three nights in a row." I smiled at the thought of having three days to do absolutely nothing. It was a rarity for me.

Anyone who overheard our exchange wouldn't think much of it. We got into the habit of talking about our work as if we were businesswomen. Which, in all actuality, we really were.

Alice was the only person who actually knew what I did for a living, and vice versa. She was one of the first people I'd met, outside of other tenants in my building, when I first moved to New York three years ago. I got a job waiting tables at a restaurant in lower Manhattan where she happened to be working at the time. We became great friends instantly. And now, we both worked for Manhattan Eloquence Escorts, one of the most elite escort services in the tri-state area. A scout for MEE had approached us both one night when we were out clubbing together. I took the job almost immediately, deciding that it would be a good opportunity for me. It paid great money, the hours were whatever you wanted them to be, and I could finally put my unusual ability to numb myself to good use. But I was truly surprised when Alice decided to go into the business as well.

Alice Brandon was such a genuine person, with the most kind and caring heart. She was intelligent, quirky, and fun, and as beautiful as she was tiny. And there was always smile on her face. She just seemed so… innocent. I was baffled by her decision. I knew why I did it; I was fucked up. I had a shitty childhood, I was broken, and anything innocent about me was lost and forgotten a long time ago. I didn't have to feel to make this money, I could just do it and it wouldn't affect me. Alice was different. But when I asked her why she wanted the job, she told me she just needed the money. So we entered the business together. It wasn't until later on that I found out that Alice wasn't as carefree and naïve as I had originally thought. Alice had her demons, too.

I still remember the day Alice told me her story. We were having a girl's day, sitting home on my couch with Paul, watching movies, and eating our way through a pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food Ice Cream. I never could have anticipated how extremely devastating her past was:

"I grew up in Indiana. My mom died when I was three, so my dad raised me by himself. He was a pastor, and an intolerant, small-minded man. Of course, as any teenager would, I rebelled against him. I started dating James when I was 15. My dad hated him, because his family didn't go to church regularly." She snorted. "That was one of the biggest reasons why I kept seeing him. But…" Alice's eyes grew sad, and I could see tears dancing on the edge of her lids. I grabbed her hand and nodded my head in encouragement. She took a deep breath. "James was really controlling, and… h-he used to… he used to hit me. A lot." Her eyes closed and she took another deep breath. "I stayed with him, because I thought I loved him, but mostly because I was afraid of what would happen if I tried to break up with him. So, we were together for two years. And then, when I was 17, I got pregnant." She shrugged. "When my dad found out, he went absolutely apeshit and kicked me out. He said, "I won't have an impure whore and a bastard child living under my roof!" We told James' parents, and they were angry. But I had a really good relationship with them, so they let me move in. And James… well, the abuse didn't stop when I was pregnant. If anything, it just got worse, because I was always with him. I didn't have anywhere to hide from him." Her voice broke, and tears were streaming freely down her cheeks at this point. Her breaths came out jaggedly, and I could tell that whatever was coming next was the hardest part for her. She tightened her grip on my hand. "When I was 5 months along, James beat me so badly that I wound up in the hospital. And the baby…" She shook her head, and sobs broke from her chest. Her shoulders slumped, and I took her in my arms. She was shaking. I rubbed her back soothingly, and after about five minutes, her sobs slowed and she sat up again. She cleared her throat, and took a few uneven breaths. When she spoke again, it was with a conviction that I never would have thought possibly after the hysterics she had just been in. "The baby didn't make it. By beating me, James killed our baby. And if ever I could have forgiven him for hurting me, I will never, as long as I live, forgive him for taking my child away." She paused, and then a small sardonic smile came on her lips. "My jackass father didn't even come see me in the hospital, you know? He probably thought I deserved what I got. But I don't really give a shit what he thinks either way. I didn't go see him before I left, either. Once I got out of the hospital, I took all my stuff from James' house, broke into my father's house and got the rest of the things I needed. Then I drained the bank account and college fund that he had set up for me, hopped on a train to New York… and here I am, 4 years later."

"Alice, I had no idea. I'm really sorry you had to go through all of that." I had tears in my eyes. My apology sounded lame to my own ears, but I didn't know what else to say. No words could express how sorry I was that this amazing girl, who I had come to care about deeply, had to suffer so severely.

"Thanks, Bella. But I'm okay now. I mean, I still miss my baby every single day, and I don't think I'll ever stop… but if I had had the baby, who knows what my life would be like now? I'd probably still be stuck in that small town, tethered to James for the rest of my life. But instead, I'm free; free from James, and my father. And I'll never let anyone control me ever again." She smiled a brilliant, genuine smile, and wiped her tears away. "No matter how devastating some things are, everything happens for a reason. I know that now. "

Alice's lilting voice pulled me back to the here and now. "So, since you're off this weekend, and my Saturday night cancelled… do you want to have some girl time?" We were in the train by now, and she had a wicked glint in her eye.

"That depends. By girl time, do you mean shopping?"

"Maybe." She sang.

I groaned. "Alice, I live in a studio apartment. There is only so much room to put clothes in there, you know. I'm going to have to start storing using my oven and dishwasher as storage."

"I already do that." She said complacently. I sighed. "Fine, then. No shopping. We'll find something else to do." She leaned her head on my shoulder and jutted out her bottom lip. "Girl time? Pretty please?"

"Okay. Yeah. We'll do something." Her answering smile was beaming, and I smiled right back at her. I loved Alice insanely. Sometimes, I was convinced that we were supposed to be born as sisters.

She stood up as the train screeched to a stop. "This is me. I'll call you tomorrow around three." She turned around and walked gracefully out on to the platform. Alice didn't just walk; she danced. She carried herself with such sophisticated grace; you almost didn't notice how tiny she was. I, for one, was a danger on my feet most of the time. Alice waved to me as the train pulled away, and I waved back until she disappeared from view.

*

**EPOV**

I parked my car in the garage connected to my parents' house and cut the engine. I sat there for a moment, swiveling my head until my neck cracked, and then moving on to my knuckles. To be perfectly honest, I was stalling. I knew what was waiting for me inside. My parents would both be on my back about staying, just as they had been every day since I'd told them I'd decided to move out. But my choice was made.

I got out of the car and walked into the house through the kitchen. I put the tray of cookies that Bella had made for me on the counter, taking one out and eating it. Even though they weren't warm anymore, they were still so fucking good. Everything in the house was quiet, and all of the lights on the first floor were off. Maybe my parents had gone to bed already. That would mean luck would have to be on my side, which didn't exactly happen a lot. When I got to the top of the stairs, I saw a pool of light cast on the hallway rug just outside of Carlisle's office. His door was slightly open. Crap. I tried to tiptoe past the door as quietly as possible, but I swear, the man had supersonic hearing or something.

"Edward, could you come in here for a minute?" His voice, calm and smooth, drifted to my ears through the open door. I winced. _Shit_. I was not up for this conversation right now, but I really didn't have a choice. I pushed the door out of the way and stepped into my father's office. As usual, he was sitting behind his big mahogany desk in his comfy leather chair. There were papers stacked in neat piles all over the desk, and his reading glasses were perched on his nose. He closed the massive book in his lap and took off his glasses, placing them on the desk. His blond hair, which was slowly beginning to gray at the temples, gleamed in the dim light from the reading lamp. Carlisle leaned back in his chair with a smile on his lips. It was the contented smile of a man who was completely happy with his life.

"Hey, dad. What's up?"

"Sit down." I sank down into the chair directly across from him. The chairs in his office were so comfortable, I immediately felt like curling up and falling asleep. "How's everything going over at the new place?"

"Pretty good. All my things are over there. The furniture is getting delivered tomorrow, so I'm planning on sleeping there." My parents had insisted on buying me all brand new furniture for my apartment. I had originally been planning on just taking the furniture from my bedroom, but they wanted to keep it the same. Something about nostalgia.

I was very aware that my father was staring at me, penetratingly, in silence. Sometimes, his innate calm made me nervous. Not to mention the fact that I really didn't want to have this conversation for the millionth time, the one that he was inevitable going to bring up. I shifted in my seat, the chair suddenly becoming very uncomfortable, and began rambling. "Uh, I met one of my new neighbors today. She's pretty cool. She made me cookies. They're on the table if you want some. And there's this great little café right around the corner from the building. I heard it has really good-"

"It's not too late to change your mind. You don't have to do this, son."

"Dad…" I sighed, exasperated. "We've talked about this."

"I know we have. But… I don't want you to go." His forehead crease, and his blue eyes were suddenly very sad.

"You'll still see me all the time. It's not like I'm moving across the country. I'll only be an hour away." I tried to lighten the mood a little. "I promise I'll still come over a lot. More than you can stand. I'll be here so much, you'll get sick of me."

"I suppose." His expression softened a bit. _Success!_ "It's not the same as having you under the same roof, though. Whose butt am I going to kick at Guitar Hero now?"

I laughed. "Yeah, right, old man. I own you in Guitar Hero. You only win when you cheat."

"I do not cheat." He said with a glint of humor in his eyes. He always cheated at Guitar Hero. He even pulled the guitar cord out when I was playing once. I shook my head at him.

"Sure you don't. Anyway, you still have Jazz; he doesn't seem to want to leave anytime soon. Watch out for mom, though. She's getting pretty damn good at it." We both laughed for a moment, no doubt with the same thoughts filling our minds. When my mom played video games, she was all business. The look of concentration on her face when she was trying to hit the right buttons was priceless. Not to mention the fact that if you even tried to talk to her while she was playing, you pretty much got your head bitten off.

The tension in the room seemed to fall away, if only for the moment. And sure enough, it was only for a very short moment. As soon as we calmed ourselves enough to stop laughing, a loaded silence filled the air. Carlisle stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of me, that same penetrating look returning to his face. He put his hand on my shoulder and looked down at me, square into my eyes.

"Your mother and I would like you to stay."

"Dad…"

"Even if it's just for a little while longer." He said quickly.

"A little while longer. Until what? Until I relapse again?"

He flinched. "That's not going to happen, Edward. I have faith in you."

"That's just it. I don't know if I deserve that faith." I hung my head in my hands. "I don't know if I deserve anything that you've given me."

"You deserve everything, and so much more." His voice was stern, and loaded with conviction. I didn't have to be looking at him to know the firm look that would be in his eyes. "Look at how far you've come from the 14-year-old boy I met in that Emergency Room. You've had a setback, but who hasn't? You addressed the problem; you walked away from it. Again. You knew that you needed help, and you got it. Not many people have that strength."

"Strength." I scoffed. The word left a bad taste in my mouth. "I wouldn't have had to walk away from it if I never went back to it to begin with. That's not strength, it's cowardice."

"Edward, you can't keep beating yourself up over this. The past has no place in the present."

I snorted and raised my head to look up at him. "How can you even say that? That's a complete lie, and you know it. The past has everything to do with the present, especially mine." I stood up abruptly and threw my hands up at my sides in frustration. "I'm an addict, Dad. Even if I don't touch the stuff ever again in my life, I will always be an addict. I've hurt people because of it. You, mom, Jasper, Emmett, Rose… Tanya. Every single person who has ever loved me, and I hurt them without thinking twice about it. I never want it to happen again." At this point, I was almost yelling, I was so angry. Not at my father, but at myself. Angry tears pooled in my eyes and I wiped at them with the back of my hand. I plopped back down into the chair, leaned my elbows on my knees, and rubbed my hands roughly over my face. Then, I whispered, "_It can't happen again_."

"You won't let it. Like I said, I have faith in you. You're a good man, Edward, whether you want to believe it or not." He put his hand on my shoulder, and I shook it off without looking at him. I heard him sigh. "You're my son, Edward. As much my son as if you were my own flesh and blood, and I love you. I'm proud of you, and I have faith in you, even if you don't think you deserve it."

"God only knows what might have become of me if I never met you." I whispered as a tear escaped my eye and dripped down to the floor. I lifted my head, and my father was looking at me with a small smile on his lips. There was a gleam in his eye, and I could tell he was holding back tears as well. I stood up and ran a hand through my hair. "But, I need to do this on my own now. I need breathing space. Not that you and mom don't give me my space, I just… I need to prove to myself that I deserve everything you've given me. And I need to do that on my own, on my own terms, and in my own time. Can you please just try to accept that this is something I have to do? Even if it doesn't make complete sense, I know that it's the right thing for me right now."

He sighed. "Okay. I trust you. And I'll stop pestering you to stay."

"Thanks, Dad." I caught him in a hug. "I love you."

"I love you too, son. Now go get some sleep."

I left my father's office and made my way up the last set of stairs to the third floor, to my bedroom. An odd sense of relief surged through me. That was the most effective discussion Carlisle and I had had since I told him of my plans, and I was convinced that he wouldn't bother me about staying any more, now that he knew my reasons. I needed to feel worthy of the life my parents had provided for me. Not only the money and the endless opportunities that came along with it, but the love and trust and faith they had put into me since the moment I walked through their door. They instilled morals and values in me that I never would have had otherwise, and they taught me things I never would have known. Carlisle and Esme Cullen were, without a doubt, the two most amazing human beings that ever lived. I was lucky enough to be a part of their lives, to call them my parents.

I threw myself on to my bed and lay on my back for a while, just staring at the ceiling. Tonight was my last night sleeping in this room, the room that had been mine for ten years. _Ten years_. I had been a part of this family for less than half of my life, but it never felt that way. Sometimes, I forgot that we hadn't always been together.

I heard a soft sigh come from my doorway, and sat up quickly, startled. My mother was standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, with a wistful smile on her face. Even at 47, she was beautiful. It was easy to see how my father had fallen in love with her. She had her caramel colored hair pulled back into a neat low ponytail, and her hazel eyes were gentle. Loving. That was one of my mother's biggest characteristics; she was a lover. She loved passionately and with everything she had to give. I moved to a more proper sitting position at the foot of my bed and smiled at her.

"I'm going to miss seeing you in here."

"Empty-nest syndrome settling in already?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Not quite yet, though I'm getting there. At least Jasper loves his mother enough to stick around."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "If you're coming in here to try to guilt trip me into staying, don't let the door hit you on the way out."

"Is that any way to talk to your mother? Gosh, I was just coming to ask if you liked the color I picked out for your walls." She said innocently, throwing her arms up, palms forward. She walked toward me, her eyes wide and innocent, but they sparkled knowingly. "I know your father was already bending your ear about it. I figured I'd play good cop tonight."

"Ugh. Mom, please do NOT talk to me about you and Dad's role-playing. I don't need those images burned into my brain."

I felt a sharp smack to the back of my head. Esme's mouth was hanging open in shock. "Edward Anthony Cullen, you know that's not what I meant at all. Get that mind of yours out of the gutter." I started laughing and looked up at her, rubbing the back of my head.

"Hey, you left yourself open for that one. When opportunity presents itself..."

"You spend way too much time with that brother of yours." She shook her head, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She was referring to Emmett, who was just about as facetious as any one person could stand to be. "I wish him and Rosalie would just move back in here. I want all my babies under one roof." _What a very subtle subject change, Mom._

"Everyone has to leave the nest sometime."

She sat down beside me and looked me straight in the eye, now not even dancing around the fact that we weren't talking about Emmett anymore. "But Brooklyn? Honey, I wish you would have at least let us a buy you a nice, big condo in Manhattan. Ooh, I'd bet you'd love that. One really high up, with floor to ceiling windows, and a spectacular view of the city. And maybe-"

"Mom. Brooklyn is perfectly fine. You even said it yourself, the place isn't bad."

"I know what I said, honey. But it is a bit small."

I rolled my eyes. Anything less than 10,000 square feet was considered small to her. "It's fine. There's more than enough room for me. Plus, it's close to the shop, so I won't have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every morning just to sit in traffic."

"Language, Edward." She scolded.

"Sorry."

She sighed heavily. "I suppose there's no use arguing with you. You're as stubborn as they come, Edward Cullen." She shook her head. "So, let's get back to the pretense that I was coming in here to ask about paint. How do you feel about the color? Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's great. Beige. Very… monotone."

She bristled. You didn't question Esme Cullen when it came to interior decorating. "It is not beige, Edward. The color is called Au Lait Ole."

"Yes, that's what I meant to say. Uh huh. Very… French.

"Whatever. You'll appreciate the color when you see the furniture I've picked out for you." She huffed. And then her cheerful mood returned almost immediately. "The colors accent each other so beautifully! I got you a nice chocolate brown leather coach, and your dresser, nightstand, and headboard are all made of the most beautiful dark mahogany. Your bed dressings are blue silk. I just love the way blue and brown look together. The contrast of the warmth and coolness makes for such an inviting atmosphere. But don't worry sweetheart, it will still be very masculine. Ooh, and I do quite like that big window in the main room, the one that goes out to the fire escape. I was thinking…" Then, she was off. She sat there for a good half an hour, going on and on about drapes, and duvets, and coverlets, and decorative pillows. Most of the time, I only had half an idea of what she was talking about. Some of the time, I was completely lost. But I knew better than to interrupt Esme when she was going into detail about one of her projects. She got really into her descriptions, using her hands to emphasize certain things. I just sat there, nodding my head, smiling, and adding an occasional "Yeah" when appropriate.

"I promise you, you'll absolutely love it when I have everything set up." She concluded and took a deep breath.

"I know I will."

"You're especially going to love the piano I got you." She sang.

"A piano? How the hell am I going to fit a piano in there?"

"Watch your mouth." She said sternly. "I knew you would go crazy if you didn't have anything to play on. It's not like I got you a grand piano. It's just an upright, so it's small enough. Don't you worry; I took measurements of the apartment before I picked out the furniture. Everything is going to fit perfectly."

"Okay. I trust you." I said, shaking my head. My mind was swimming with all the things she had been talking about going in my apartment, and I had no idea how it would all fit. But she was the expert.

"That's a wise choice." My mother stood up with a smirk and stretched her arms over her head. "I'm bushed. And I have a long day of feng shui-ing the heck out of your apartment ahead of me. I'm calling it a night."

"I'm with you on that one." A huge yawn escaped me just then, emphasizing my statement.

"I'll let you get some sleep then." She turned toward the door, then stopped, and turned back around to face me. "You know your room will be here, just as you left it, if ever you want to come home."

"Does that include on Sundays for lasagna?" I smirked.

She laughed. "Of course. I always make enough to feed a small country anyways, you know that." She wasn't lying. Esme was a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen. Actually, she was pretty much a force in everything she did. "Well, I suppose I should go see if I can pry your father away from his desk to get a good night's sleep."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it." I stood up and pulled my mother into a hug. "I love you, my son. I may not have given birth to you, baby, but you are my own. Don't ever forget that." She kissed me on the cheek and ruffled my hair. "Goodnight."

"I love you too. Goodnight, mom."

I slept peacefully and dreamlessly that night, knowing that tomorrow marked the beginning of a fresh start for me.

*

**Next up: Some Bella & Edward. I won't be posting again until Monday. Make sure to leave me some reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I know I said I'd be posting on Monday, but something came up. Sorry guys. I feel horrible. I have a relatively long one for you guys to hopefully make up for my lack of postage. Thanks so much for the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Edward, Bella, or any of the Twilight characters. Everything belongs to Stephenie Meyer, that lucky woman.**

*

**EPOV**

Friday afternoon, after my mother had finished directing me, my father, and brothers to arrange and rearrange my apartment until she finally decided it "gave off the right vibe", and they had all left, I decided to head over to the shop. I had been seriously neglecting my work responsibilities for the past few weeks, prepping for the move, and I was even more grateful than ever that I had Rosalie to pick up my slack. She might be an infallible bitch, but she always took things upon herself without question when I was otherwise occupied, which happened to be a hell of a lot over the past two years. The woman was a godsend.

While I was waiting for the elevator in my building, an older man rounded the corner at the end of the hall and came walking toward me. I recognized him from when I'd first come to look at this apartment, and I'd seen him around during the move. Mr. Lucci, I was sure that was his name. He came to stand beside me and we exchanged a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr. Cullen. How are you getting along so far?"

"Good, Mr. Lucci, thanks for asking. And you can call me Edward."

"Only if you call me Frankie. Mr. Lucci is my father."

"Okay. Frankie. Done."

The elevator chimed just then and the door opened up. When we got inside, I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It sounded like running. And then the very distinctive sound of someone tripping and their breath coming out of them in a whoosh.

"Shit." A woman's voice said quietly. Then, louder, "Hold the elevator, please!"

I stuck my hand out between the doors just as they were closing. They opened back up and the dark haired beauty from across the hall appeared in front of me, panting for breath. She was wearing a loose fitting black t-shirt with the name of some 80's rock band on it underneath a black hoodie, jeans, and red Converse. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, long and full and wavy. She smiled at me as she stepped into the elevator, and her cheeks were a startling shade of bright red.

"Thanks, Edward."

"No problem."

"Afternoon, Isabella."

I saw her eyebrows furrow infinitesimally, and I got the impression that she didn't like being called by her full name. Bella suited her. I'd never met anyone whose name fit them so perfectly.

"I see you've met Edward here already."

"Yeah. Edward had the misfortune of being my wake up call the other morning."

"Yikes." The older man reached out and patted my shoulder. "I know firsthand what a scary experience that is. I bet you won't be making that mistake again."

"I don't know. I might just have to do it again if I get another batch of those cookies out of the deal." The elevator stopped at the lobby just then, and we filed out.

"Our Bella here is a regular Betty Crocker."

Bella was looking at me with amusement plain on her face. She completely ignored Frankie's endearment. "Fuck, no. I gave you a freebie because you're new. Next time, your balls get the pleasure of being introduced to my knee cap, buddy." Her face stretched into a vindictive smile.

I cringed, my hands moving instinctively to protect my groin, and openly gaped at her. This woman really had no filter whatsoever. I've only ever met one other woman with a mouth like hers, and that was my sister-in-law, Rosalie. I was used to it from her, but Bella just didn't look the type to such a dirty mouth. And for some reason, it turned me on like crazy. My cock ached. I swallowed heavily.

"Well, in that case, there won't be a next time. I like my balls just fine the way they are, thanks."

She laughed and backed toward the front door. "Wise decision. I'll tell you what; if your good, I might just bake you some of my special monkey bread."

"I'll be on my best behavior."

I'd all but forgotten about the third party witnessing our little banter, until he spoke again. He was unlocking his mailbox. "Where are you headed off to this afternoon, Isabella?"

By the look on her face, she'd forgotten his presence too. "Ah, going to get some grocery shopping done. Do you need anything?"

He reached into his pocket for his wallet. "Yes, actually, would you mind grabbing me some milk and a loaf of bread, dear? And none of that soy crap you drink. Real, whole milk."

He handed her some money and Bella shoved it into her back pocket. "Not that it would hurt you any to switch." She said, swatting his spare tire. "What about you, Edward?"

"No, I'm all set, thanks."

"Okay. I'll see you guys later then." She turned and used two hands to push her way out the front door.

I watched her until the door swung shut behind her, and then I turned to Frankie. He was shaking his head with a smile on his face while he locked his mailbox. "She's a rare breed, that one. Got a mouth like a sailor on her, and she's tough as nails, but she's a sweetheart."

"You know her well?"

"Pretty well. I took to checking in on her when she first came here. She was only eighteen. A baby, living on her own." He shook his head. "Poor thing. But she adjusted just fine. Takes good care of herself. She works like a dog, though." He turned to me. "You going out for a smoke?"

"Yeah." He stuck his mail into his jacket pocket and led the way outside.

"So, what does Bella do, anyways? I mean, her hours are kind of nuts." He lit his cigarette and handed me the lighter.

"She bartends at some swanky after hours club in Manhattan. You know the type; you need a black card and a Rolex just to get through the door."

"Oh." I said simply, taking a drag of my cigarette. "You said she lives alone, right? No roommate, or…" I trailed off.

He looked at me with a knowing smirk. "You mean does she have a boyfriend? No, at least, not that I know of. I've never seen her with any men. Come to think of it, I haven't really seen her with anyone. Just that friend of hers…" He tapped his temple, as if willing himself to remember something. "Alex? No, Alice. That's it, Alice. Tiny little thing, that one. Anyways, no, I don't think she has a boyfriend."

"Huh." I managed, and smoked my cigarette, mulling that over. I was 100% positive I'd heard her saying some guys' name the other morning- _was it only yesterday?_

It was entirely possible that she was dating someone, and Frankie just didn't know about it. With her unconventional work hours, she probably brought over said boyfriend late at night, and he left during the day while the people in the building with normal job hours were working. But I didn't see anyone leaving- _Jesus fucking Christ, Edward, why do you give a shit?_

"You have a thing for Isabella, don't you?" I was startled to be pulled from my thoughts, mostly because it was as if he had been hearing them.

"No. Well… I… I mean, I just met her… I don't…" I sputtered.

He laughed. "Can't say I blame you. She's a beautiful, beautiful girl. Don't let that face fool you, though. She's just as smart as she is beautiful. And she knows how to take shit, and dish it back ten fold. Heck, if my son wasn't married, I'd set the two of them up in a heartbeat." He took a drag of his smoke and laughed. "Don't know if he'd be able to handle her, though. She's a spitfire."

"She seems like… a very unique person." _A very unique person? Wow, that was lame._

"That, she is. Great girl." He threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it to put it out. "Well, I'm heading back inside. I'm in 423 if you ever need me."

"Okay. It was nice talking to you."

"Yup, you too." He clapped me on the shoulder, and then went back into the building.

I put out my cigarette and pulled out another one. As I smoked, I thought backwards through the conversation. It had done nothing to sate my curiosity about Bella; if anything, it had just added more fuel to the fire. I still didn't understand the constant defensive set of her unbalanced lips, the guarded, almost hardened look in her milk chocolate eyes, or the way her body seemed to always be tensed, as if she were bracing herself for impact. All I really knew was that I wanted to _know_. I had a strong desire to find out everything about this girl. I vowed to myself right then and there that I would.

*

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of Cullen's Auto Body and smiled complacently to myself. My parents' place was an hour away, but that was without factoring in the congested traffic. I could definitely get used to this.

I walked into the garage through the raised doors, and could hear Rosalie's unmistakable voice before I could see her. She was standing underneath a car that was raised up on a lift, with two of our mechanics, Jacob and Seth, beside her. Her face was somewhere between 'assault with a deadly weapon' and 'first-degree murder'.

"Don't you dickheads tell _me_ I'm fucking wrong. I've been fixing cars since I could walk, while the two of you were still sitting in your own piss and shit. So when I tell you _this_ is the way to attach a battery cable, don't fucking question me. Just fucking do it."

"Hey Rose." I shouted, trying to save the guys a little humiliation. "Hey Seth, Jake."

"Hey Edward." They both grumbled. I imagined each of them with a tail tucked between their legs.

Rosalie turned away from them and walked toward me in her dirty dark gray jumpsuit, with her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail high on her head. She was wiping her hands on a rag and shaking her head at me with exasperation. "Fucking amateurs. Tell me again why we hired those pricks?"

I reached out and wiped a spot of dirt off of her nose. "Because we fired the last two amateur pricks who wouldn't listen to you." I turned and headed toward the back office with Rose following.

"Right."

"Plus, they're both pretty good at their jobs." I said, plopping down into the chair behind the desk. She sighed and perched herself on the edge of the desk. "True. I just don't understand why it's so damn impossible for them to get their heads out of their asses and hear what I'm trying to tell them. Is it that hard to accept that a woman knows a hell of a lot more about cars than they do?" She turned her head toward the open door and yelled, very pointedly, "Maybe if they put their precious egos aside, swallowed their pride, and opened up their fucking ears, they could actually learn a few fucking things." She spoke just to me now. "This is basic fucking shit, Edward."

"Maybe if you weren't such a cunt, they'd actually listen to you."

"Maybe." She folded her arms across her chest. "But you say that like it's possible."

Of course she was right, about all of it. I'd never met one person in my life, men and women alike, who was better under a hood than Rosalie. It only made sense to have her as my partner when I opened up this shop, because she was the one who taught me everything I know.

She was working on Emmett's jeep in the garage one night, only a few months after I had come to the Cullen's, and I was completely enthralled with what she was doing. Even though Emmett and Rosalie weren't exactly a couple back then, they were always together, and Rose was always at the house. So after that, every chance I got, I was out in the garage learning from her. Between fixing cars and taking piano lessons, I kept myself busy and away from trouble's temptations.

"So, how are you liking living on your own?"

I snorted. "I haven't exactly gotten a feel for it yet. I'll let you know when I do." I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. "Mom and Dad are still sulking."

"Oh, they'll get over it. When me and Emmett moved out, it only took them…" She cocked her head. "Wait, Momma Hen's still begging us to move back in."

I laughed. Rosalie and Emmett had gotten their own place almost three years ago. "Thanks, Rose."

"No problem." She smiled. "Seriously, though, don't worry about it. You're doing what you have to do _for you_. Fuck 'em if they can't accept it." She pursed her lips. "If you ever tell Esme and Carlisle that I said that, I will gladly shove my foot so far up your ass, I'll be getting pedicures through your mouth."

"My lips are sealed." Rose wasn't one to make empty threats.

"What the fuck are you doing here, anyways?"

"Um, I figured I'd come in and get some work done."

She rolled her eyes. "Edward, get your skinny fucking ass out of here and go enjoy your bachelor pad. I can hold down the fort."

I shook my head. "No. I do that to you way too much; leave you here to deal with everything alone."

"I'm a big girl, if you haven't fucking noticed, Edward. I can handle it." She hopped down from the desk and grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the chair. Then she got behind me and started pushing me out the door into the garage. "Get the fuck out of here, before I beat your ass."

"Okay, okay. I surrender. I'll go."

She stopped pushing me and moved to stand beside me, walking with me to my car with a smug smile on her face. When we reached my car, she turned to me and said, "Have a nice weekend, mother fucker, because you're opening Monday morning. My ass is sleeping in." With that, she turned and walked back into the garage. I shook my head and smiled as I climbed into my car. I loved that cunt to death.

As I pulled out of the parking lot, I could hear Rosalie's loud voice bitching and swearing at Seth and Jake again. I laughed into the silence of my car.

*

**BPOV**

In my line of work, there were two fundamental rules that could never be broken, both tying into each other, and each just as important as the other. The first: discretion, discretion, discretion. Keeping our clients identities confidential was an absolute must, a non-negotiable edict of the job. A large number of our clients were married men; highly regarded businessmen, doctors, lawyers… and even well known political figures. Not only would their careers, reputations, and lives be down the fucking toilet if anyone were to find out what they were doing on the sly, but we would be exposed, lose our way of making a living, and could face criminal charges. After all, what we did for a living wasn't only considered by many to be immoral; it was also fucking illegal.

The second rule was to never, ever get emotionally involved with a client under any circumstances. When emotions get involved, people get down right stupid. They lose their heads and their focus, they get sloppy and reckless, and people find out. Whenever you hear about call girl scandals in the news, 9 out of 10 times either the call girl or the man in question will be whining something along the lines of "I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. We fell in love. We couldn't help it. I'm sorry." Blah, blah, blah, the whole song and dance. Which brings you back to the first rule: discretion. Emotions and discretion are like oil and water; they don't fucking mix. And at my agency, we weren't the kind to go running to the nearest media outlet, selling our clients out for a few bucks and fifteen minutes of fame. We were high-priced, well sought after, and we were professionals.

I never had a problem following these rules, not once since I started working for Manhattan Eloquence. With my clients, I typically preferred to not even know their real names unless it was absolutely necessary. They'd call me my working name, Sophia, and I'd call them by whatever alias they had used to book the hotel room with. It seemed to make them more comfortable and trusting that their trysts would be kept secret. And it made things even more impersonal, not that I had any problems with the whole emotional detachment thing to begin with. I'd been able to numb myself since I was seven years old.

That numbness that I could put on was one of the reasons I was so good at my job; I could numb myself completely when I went with clients, to the point where I sometimes didn't even remember most of the night after everything was said and done. But I didn't go into an emotional detached zombie-mode when I did this; it was like an alter ego took over. Bella the person hid away inside of me, and Sophia the call girl was front and center. It was oddly comforting that I could escape into myself so easily and painlessly. Maybe it wasn't exactly a healthy thing, borderline insanity perhaps, but if it let me do my job and make, on average, $5,000 a night, then I was just fine with it. And that amount was after I paid the mandatory 20% for booking the clients to MEE.

Thursday night's client started out just like any other, but I had to admit, I was more than happy when our meeting was over. I couldn't _not_ know "Mr. Roy McDaniels" real name, because he was a very well known California senator, here in New York on business. But that wasn't what frustrated me. He was into hair pulling. I usually didn't mind hair pulling; sometimes, it even turned me on. But he took it to the point where it stopped being arousing and started to become very painful. By the time we were done, I was genuinely surprised to see that there weren't clumps of my hair all over the bed.

"I trust this will remain between us, Miss Sophia. I do have a reputation to uphold."

"Of course, Mr. McDaniels. I pride myself in being very discreet. I assure you, no one will ever know of our transaction." I put a little more venom into my voice than was absolutely necessary, but I couldn't help the irritation that was bubbling up inside of me. This man had put a chink in my fucking rock solid armor: it was pretty difficult to stay numb when your hair was being yanked from its roots.

He kissed me on the cheek and slid a wad of cash into my hand. "Maybe I'll see you again the next time I'm in town."

I tried to smile, but it felt like a scowl. I had the minute urge to rip this man's face off. "You know how to get in touch." I shoved the cash into my bag and stalked out of the room without another word. When I got outside, I threw up into the nearest trashcan. I massaged my scalp the whole way home.

*

When I woke the next afternoon, I was pleasantly happy to remember that I had three whole days lying wide open before me. And I was especially happy that I would have to take my truck out to hold my bags when I ran errands. I barely ever drove anywhere anymore, and I missed my old Chevy terribly. After a day-starting face plant in the hallway, and a brief encounter with Edward in the elevator, I spent most of the day running around. I put gas in the truck, went grocery shopping, picked up some new toys for Paul, and even got to the gym for the first time in an embarrassingly long time. It was, all together, a pretty productive day, and I went to bed early that night, much to Little P's delight.

Saturday afternoon, I had plans with Alice for a day of eating popcorn and watching bad horror movies. I woke up early and spent most of the morning cleaning my apartment. Around 1 o'clock, there was a knock on my door, and I almost expected it to be Alice showing up an hour early. She tended to get overzealous when she was excited about something.

I padded down the hallway, undid the locks, and pulled the door open. I stopped short.

Standing in front of my door was a body sheathed in dark jeans, an army green t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black boots. The reason I just say 'a body'? Because he was holding my rectangular white serving tray, clutching it with one hand on either side, holding it up in front of his face like a shield. I recognized who it was immediately, even without seeing his face. I think the shapes and angles of this particular body were burned into the back of my eyelids by now, I'd spent so many hours fantasizing about it. _Which is completely out of character for me, might I add?_ I folded my arms across my chest, shifted my weight to one foot, jutting my hip out a little, and mashed my lips together to keep from laughing.

After a few seconds, he peeked over the rim of the platter, slowly bringing it down: first revealing his messy bronze hair, then his crinkled forehead, his dark eyebrows, and finally, those striking green eyes. His eyebrows were raised in mock apprehension, his beautiful eyes wide with faux terror. I arched one eyebrow inquisitively, and he yanked the tray back up to cover his face.

I lost it.

I burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. He lowered his makeshift shield away from his face completely, wiping his forehead with two fingers and flicking them out to the side with a "Whew." His face was a picture of exaggerated relief. I had to put my hand over my mouth to contain my laughter. I had no idea why I was laughing so hard; probably because I was taken off guard and had no clue what Edward was doing.

"Wow, I didn't know I was that funny. Maybe I should do stand up." He was suddenly smiling at me, a brilliant crooked smile that took my breath away. In a way, I was grateful for that, because it helped be get my fit of hysterics under control.

I cleared my throat, choking back another giggle. "Sorry, I just… what the hell are you doing?"

"Just bracing myself. You know, just incase you decided to unleash your death glare on me again. You can never be too prepared."

I smiled and shook my head minutely. "I guess not. My friend Alice always says that if we could bottle the force of my bitchface, we'd have a serious nuclear weapon on our hands."

"I'd have to agree with her on that one. Here." He handed me the bitchface-repelling serving platter.

"Thanks."

"They were a huge hit at my house, by the way. My brother ate about six of them for breakfast yesterday morning."

I hugged the tray to my chest. "Well, that's a very nutrient rich breakfast. I hope he at least washed it down with some orange juice."

He smiled in amusement, while I silently reflected upon the fact that three of the four encounters I'd had with this beautiful man so far had been filled with sarcasm and laughs. We hadn't made any progress in the way of actually getting to know each other. _The guy _did_ just move in yesterday. Besides, why do you _want _to get to know him so badly?_

"So, what are you doing up so early?"

"It's 1 o'clock."

"My point exactly, Miss Night Owl."

I couldn't help but smile. "Well, um… wait, why are you knocking on my door so early?"

"I saw you putting trash in the Dumpster a little while ago. I wouldn't have knocked if I wasn't sure it was safe first." He smirked.

"Oh, so you're stalking me now?"

"No, I was out on my fire escape smoking."

"You smoke?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Mm hm."

"Nasty habit."

"Tell me about it." I rolled my eyes exasperatedly. "Anyways, I don't usually work weekends. And I had last night off, too, so I actually got to sleep like a normal person."

"Normal is overrated." He said with a grin. "No wonder why you're so pleasant today." He added. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he laughed.

His brows furrowed suddenly, and he ran his hand through those gorgeous locks. I was envious of his fingers. "So, listen, Bella. I was wondering-" Just then, an embarrassingly loud chorus sounded from inside my apartment.

_Hold me closer tiny dancer_

_Count the headlights on the highway_

_Lay me down in sheets of linen_

_You had a busy day today_

He cocked an eyebrow. I held up one finger. "Hold that thought." I turned, jogged back down the hallway to the coffee table, and scooped up my cell phone as I put the tray down. I knew who it was without even looking at the screen. There was only one number whose call was assigned to that ring tone. Alice.

"Hey, Pix."

"Hi, BellBell."

"What's up?"

"I will be at your apartment in approximately one hour with two pumpkin spice soy lattes and three hilariously bad horror movies. Your butt better be downstairs waiting for me because I can't open your front door regularly, let alone with my hands full."

"Okay. Downstairs. One hour. Got it."

"Good. Did you remember to get the cheesy jalapeno sauce for the popcorn?"

"Of course. That was item number one on my grocery list."

"Great. Bella, I'm so glad we're doing this. We haven't had a 'girl's night in' in ages. I don't-"

I interrupted her before she could really get going on one of her tangents. "Alice, I'm really glad we're doing this too and everything, but I was kind of in the middle of something before you called. So I'll see you when you get here, all right?"

"Okay." She wasn't mad that I had cut her off. Alice knew she had the tendency to ramble.

We hung up and I stuffed the phone into my back pocket as I walked back down the hall. Edward was facing out into the main hallway with his back to me, pressed against my doorjamb. He pushed off the wall and turned to face me when he heard my approaching.

"Sorry about that."

"What did I tell you about that word?" He said sternly, then smiled. "It's okay. So, you're an Elton fan?"

I blushed. "That's just my ring tone for Alice. It's kind of a joke. When you meet her, you'll understand why." He nodded. "Were you going to ask me something, before…" I motioned with my thumb over my shoulder.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah." His hand went into his hair again. I wondered idly if it was as soft as it looked. "I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out? I mean, since I'm new to the building and all, I was thinking you could show me the ropes. Give me all the low down." He smiled, the sides of his lips twitching. He was nervous. _And so fucking adorable_.

"Today?"

"Yeah, if that's all right."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I have plans already."

He shook his head. "Oh, okay. No. Yeah, that's… no problem." He looked down, and that damn hand was in his hair again. "I'll just see you around."

He turned and started to walk away, and before I could fully register what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed his arm. It was almost… instinctive. "Wait." He turned back to me, his eyes on my hand where it rested on his arm. I almost didn't notice the way my hand tingled where our skin met. "I didn't say no."

He looked up and met my eyes. "I'm not doing anything tomorrow, if you're free."

He smiled widely. "Tomorrow's good."

"Cool. How about we do breakfast? There's this really great diner a few blocks over with the best stuffed French toast this side of the bridge."

"Sounds good. But when you say breakfast, do you mean normal breakfast time, or a 4PM special?" I was glad his good humor seemed to have returned. _That was quick_.

I realized that I was still holding his arm. I let go of it and pushed his shoulder roughly. "Ass. I'll be at your door at 9AM. Be ready, or prepare to be bitchfaced to death."

"Maybe I should take back my shield…" He smirked.

"You just be ready, and no one gets hurt."

He raised his hand to his forehead and gave me a salute as he was backing away. "Yes, ma'am."

I shook my head and put a hand on my door. "See you tomorrow, wise ass."

"Bye, Bella." He smiled a crooked smile at me, and I committed it to memory before I shut the door.

*

About an hour later, I had a massive bowl of popcorn smothered in cheesy jalapeno topping on the coffee table in front of me, Paul curled up on my lap, and the TV tuned into a rerun of Full House, when I got the sinking feeling that I had forgotten something in my Edward-induced haze. I remembered what it was just as a sharp, angry rapping sounded on my door. I jumped up, dumping Paul on the floor where he, of course, landed on his feet, and bounded to the door. I pulled it out of the way quickly and faced Alice with an apologetic smile. Her eyebrows were raised in annoyance, and she had a tray with two coffees in one hand, a Block Buster bag in the other, and her purse slung precariously on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Alice. It completely slipped my mind. I must've, I don't know, been daydreaming or something."

Alice's face broke into a brilliant smile, and I knew I was forgiven. She pushed past me into my apartment. "It's okay, Bella. I know how spacey you can be sometimes."

She dumped the coffees and her bags on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. Paul came over to rub himself against her shins, and she picked him up with a squeal of delight.

"Little P, I missed you so much! Is your bitchy, forgetful mother being good to you, huh?" She continued to coo into his ear while Paul purred and lapped up the attention like the hambone he was. I sat down next to them and grabbed the bag of movies to see what she picked out.

"So, how did you get in, anyway?" I asked as I read through the summary on the back of one of the cases. It was about a town that got infested by bats whose bite turned everyone into zombies.

"Some guy opened the door for me. We took the elevator together. Hey, did you say Mr. Fuckable had blonde hair?"

My head snapped up and I furrowed my eyebrows at her. "No. Reddish brown. Why?"

"Because the elevator guy went into the apartment across the hall, and he was blonde. And very fucking delicious."

"Huh. Maybe it's his boyfriend." I smirked to myself and started reading the back of the next DVD. This one centered around a group of teenagers getting locked in an amusement park with a serial killer.

"It's possible." Alice sighed. "All the good ones are either gay or taken."

"Or deranged psychopaths." I said, shaking one of the DVDs at her.

She laughed. "Way to bring on the morbid factor, Bella."

Alice and I settled on the third DVD, which was about a family who moved into a house that had once belonged to a crazy doctor who's extracurricular activities included chopping people up for fun. And now, their blood lusting spirits haunted the house. It promised lots of gore. I crawled across the carpet to the DVD player under my TV and popped the disk in.

"So, have you seen Mr. Fuckable again?" Alice asked as I settled back down onto the couch.

"Can you please stop calling him that? Yes, I was actually talking to _Edward_ when you called."

"Ooh, you didn't tell me you knew his name. Edward." She seemed to mull that over as she popped some popcorn in her mouth. I took a sip of my latte, and was ecstatic to find that it was still hot. _Thank heaven for foam cups_.

"It's kind of old fashioned. Does anyone call him Eddie, or Ed?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'll ask him tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "We're hanging out." I focused my attention on the movie, which was just rolling the opening credits along with a montage of the Mad Doctor hacking the shit out of his patients. Alice reached over quickly and pressed 'pause' on the remote.

"YOU HAVE PLANS WITH HIM!" Her voice shot up from her normal-loud to her earsplitting excited-loud. Paul hissed, jumped off the couch, and ran to hide under my bed. I looked at her, and her eyes were as big as saucers.

"Take it down a few octaves, you're going to make my ears bleed." I shook my head at her, then shrugged. "It's no big deal. We're just grabbing some breakfast. He wants me to 'give him the lowdown' on the building." I used my fingers to make air quotes.

"Bella, you have a date with Mr. Fuckable." Her voice was more controlled now, but only slightly. "Where are you going? What are you going to wear? Ooh, you should wear that cute little purple dress that you got last time we went shopping. With your little white heels. Or maybe we should make it ballet flats, since it's _you_. Can I come over and do your makeup? I bet-" No more voice control. All of her words were running together, and she was bouncing up and down.

"Alice!" I felt my face harden. "It's _not_ a date."

Alice's smile faltered, and she stopped bouncing. "O_kay_."

I pressed play on the remote, and we both turned our attention to the TV.

*

"I knew it! I told you Bonnie's ex-boyfriend was the killer!"

"See, that's precisely why I don't date. No psycho exes to trap me in a funhouse and slice up all my friends."

"A very sensible reason not to date." Alice was saying as I handed her coat to her.

I pulled my leather jacket off its hanger in the hall closet and put it on. We left to go pick up the pizza we ordered from the pizzeria down the street. As we walked, we discussed the terrible movies she had picked out, and I laughed so hard that I literally had to stop walking and lean over, bracing my hands on my knees for support as I tried to catch my breath. When we got back to the building, we were still all giggles. Maybe those three vodka-and-cranberries we'd had between the second and third movies weren't the best idea. We were both hopeless when it came to holding our liquor.

I handed the pizza box to Alice to hold while I unlocked my door. I'd just gotten it unlocked when the door behind me and to my left opened. I turned toward the sound, and almost didn't notice the knots turning in my stomach. And the… _Fuck me_.

He was in the same outfit I had seen him in earlier, only now, he had a black leather jacket on over the army green shirt that made his emerald orbs pop. I swear, I didn't notice the burning ache that formed between my thighs when he ran that cursed hand through that impossible sex hair. I definitely wasn't imagining pulling on those locks while I-

"Hey, Bella."

It took some effort for me to remove my teeth from my bottom lip. I suddenly came to the realization that it was very dangerous for me to be anything less than stone cold sober around this man.

"Ed-Edward. Hey."

"Mr. Fuckable!" Alice said to me in her most discreet Alice-whisper. Which, naturally, meant that anyone within 50 feet of us would have heard her. In this case, that just so happened to include Edward, who was looking at me in confused amusement.

"Pay no attention to the babbling pixie. She's very tipsy." I wrenched the door open and shoved Alice inside. "Goodnight." I yelled before closing the door behind me, not sparing him another glance.

My face was overheated from embarrassment. I stalked down the hall to the kitchen, where Alice was perched on a high chair by the island, tearing into a slice of pizza.

"I could kill you, you know that?"

"What did I do?" She asked with her mouth full, her eyes wide and innocent.

"You pretty much just called Edward 'Mr. Fuckable' to his face."

"He didn't hear me. I whispered. I was quiet."

"Alice, you wouldn't know the definition of quiet if it walked up and bit you in the ass."

She hopped down from the chair and walked over to my refrigerator. "Oh, stop being so grouchy, Bella. I'm sure he didn't hear me." She opened the freezer and pulled out the bottle of vodka. I snatched it from her hand and caught the freezer door before it swung shut.

"Uh uh. I'm cutting you off. You've caused me enough trouble tonight."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine." Grabbing her plate of pizza, she danced off into the main room. "Buzz kill."

I sighed and took a bite out of a slice of pizza. _Mr. Fuckable_. I shook my head. _That's going to make for a very awkward conversation tomorrow_.

*

Sunday morning, I woke up to an annoyingly loud whining sound coming from the somewhere close to me. I lifted my head, it felt like it weighed 100 pounds, and looked toward the source of the noise. Paul was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking up at me with wide yellow eyes, meowing at the top of his lungs. I groaned and reached behind my head for a pillow, promptly throwing it in his direction. He hissed and jumped off the bed. I smiled smugly to myself and pulled the covers over my head.

No more than two minutes later, I felt the bed shake as he jumped back onto it. This time, he was right beside my head, and his mewing was earsplitting coupled with the headache that was slowly forming in my right temple.

"Paul McCartney Swan, if you don't get your furry ass out of my face, I swear I'll send you to the taxidermist." I warned him without opening my eyes.

This was a threat I often made whenever he pissed me off, so by now, he knew I was all talk. He stuck his head through an opening in my blanket fortress and nudged my forehead with his nose. I sighed and sat up, the blood rushing down from my head making me a bit unsteady.

"Okay, I'm up, see? Are you happy?" He gave me an arrogant little look, then turned around, jumped off the bed, and ran toward the kitchen, swishing his tail as he went.

I rolled my eyes and glanced over at my alarm clock. It was after 8. Fuck. I must've forgotten to set my alarm last night. I threw the covers off my legs and ran to the kitchen where Paul was pacing impatiently in front of his bowl. I poured his food, got him some water, and hurried to my dresser to start getting ready.

I decided on wearing a black and blue flannel button down over a white tank top, skinny jeans, and black sneakers. Nothing fancy, just comfy, casual, and warm. I spotted the purple dress that Alice was talking about in my drawer and snorted. Was she serious, telling me to wear that? There was no need to dress up, it was just Sunday morning breakfast. With Edward. _And it's not a date_.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth and my hair, popped some ibuprofen, and by the time I was pulling on my jacket, it was 8:58. My stomach flipped. I bit my lip, ran a hand through my hair, and willed myself to calm down. There's no reason to be nervous. It's not a date. I shot a glance toward the kitchen and wondered if it would be bad manners to take a quick swig before I went with him, just to calm my nerves.

_It's 9 in the morning, you fucking lush_. "Right." I said out loud to myself, then walked out the door and locked it behind me. I walked the short distance to Edward's door and took a deep breath.

I knocked twice.

A few seconds passed before I heard his footsteps coming toward the door. When he opened it, there was an amused smile on his angels face.

"You're really into punctuality, aren't you?"

I shrugged and tried to be surreptitious about admiring the intriguing way his black shirt contrasted with his milky white skin. Violent butterflies assaulted the inside of my ribcage.

"I just like to be on time." I met his eyes and smiled.

Once again, I noticed the light purple shadows underneath his eyes. They were lighter than they'd been when I'd first met him, but something about the way they were set into his skin seemed almost as if they were permanently etched there.

"I just need to throw some shoes on and grab my jacket. Do you want to come in for a minute?"

"Sure." He stepped to the side of the doorway to let me pass.

I was genuinely taken aback when I walked into Edward's apartment. I had half expected him to be living out of boxes; he'd literally only lived here for one night. Most guys I knew would live out of boxes for at least a few weeks after moving into a new place. Not Edward. His apartment was immaculate: a place for everything, and everything in its place. But it was more than that: it looked like a fucking picture out of Elle Decor magazine.

The walls were a warm, creamy light brown; his couch was chocolate brown suede with royal blue throw pillows. In front of the sofa was a beautiful rounded glass coffee table that was thinner at one side and opened up into a wider circle, curving in front of the couch in a shape resembling a kidney bean. It was one of those pieces of furniture that I was afraid to go near, because I'd inevitably break something. A flat screen TV, a few inches bigger than mine, was mounted on the wall across from the couch over a short and wide mahogany shelving unit. The shelves were home to a massive DVD collection that put mine to shame.

Edward had gone over to the bedroom nook, and was sitting on his bed, pulling on his black boots. The wall obscured most of the bed from my view, (_Not thinking about his bed, not thinking about his bed_) but from what I could see of it, the covers were blue, matching the palette of the rest of the apartment. This was way too neat and tidy and _modern_ for a man's apartment. A straight man in his twenties with messy sex hair and motorcycle boots, no less. Unless he wasn't straight. _Oh, _please_, let him be gay_.

"I love what you've done with the place. Very… well put together. Not what I'd expect from a bachelor pad."

He snorted as he stood up and walked toward me. "I told my mother people would take one look at this place and question my sexuality." He shook his head and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "She's an interior designer, and once she gets started its impossible to reign her in. I had no say in this whatsoever."

"Oh." I had to admit, I was kind of disappointed that my assessment was wrong. Disappointed in a 'now there's nothing to hold me back from fantasizing about ripping off his pants and fucking him on the fire escape' kind of way. _Alice is right; you _are_ demented_.

"It looks great though. I've been in guys' apartments where the TV stand was a pile of empty pizza boxes, and the only furniture was a broken futon and a couple of milk crates. True story. So, as far as guys' apartments go, I'd say yours is definitely at the top of the list."

"Thanks." He walked past me to the hall closet, and pulled out the same worn leather jacket he had been wearing last night. I swear, I almost fainted. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

He gestured for me to go in front of him. "After you."

*

During the walk to the diner and throughout breakfast, I deftly avoided getting into any personal conversation. I spent most of the morning letting Edward in on who was who in our apartment building. I told him the tenants to avoid, including Ms. Cope, the heavyset red haired woman in 230 who would talk your ear off until she was blue in the face; and Alistair, the unpleasant middle-aged man in 114 who walked around muttering to himself about the corruptness of today's youth and the evil of rap music.

I also let him in on who was cool, like Angela, the quiet girl in 132 who was a waitress at the diner we were having breakfast at; I actually got to introduce them. And Laurent, the laidback sax player who was the only person I'd ever met who actually talked in the manner of a stereotypical jazz musician. He was great, although his girlfriend Victoria scared the hell out of me. She had always been pleasant whenever I'd talked to her, but something about her fiery red hair and catlike demeanor seriously intimidated me.

By the time we'd finished eating, I'd given him the rundown of everyone in the building. It was a pretty warm day for October, and Edward asked me if I wanted to take a walk instead of going straight home. I'd said yes.

"So, where are you from?" I asked him quickly as we left the diner, trying to oh-so-subtly keep the conversation from turning to me, and Alice's little slip up last night.

"Chicago."

"What's it like there? I've never been."

A strange look crossed his features, but dissipated before I could identify it. "Um… windy." He smiled and I rolled my eyes. "Boisterous, bright… not much unlike New York, I suppose. Aren't all big cities the same?"

"Not all." I disagreed lightly.

"What about you?"

"Phoenix."

"What's Phoenix like? A lot of sand, I imagine."

"There's way more to it than just desert. Of course, it's hot and dry. But it's also sprawling and expansive. There's nothing like the way the sun hits the valley. The mountains are gorgeous, though I'd hardly call them mountains. There more like… jagged peaks. The sky is pale blue and it stretches on for miles and miles. And at night, you have the most spectacular view of the stars. It's beautiful." Even I could hear the longing in my voice, and I cleared my throat to try and cover it.

We had come to the small park down the street from the diner, and we stopped and sat down on a bench. I pulled out a cigarette and my lighter. Edward pulled a pack out of his pocket, and I saw that we smoked the same brand. Camel Lights. I lit his cigarette for him.

"You miss it." He said as I shoved the lighter back into my bag.

"Yeah." I sighed.

"So, why did you leave?"

"It's complicated."

"I'm sure I can keep up."

"It's not exactly_ light_ conversation. I don't like to talk about it."

He was quiet for what seemed like hours, but was only mere seconds. I glanced up at him, and he was looking down at me probingly. That was the first time I realized the sheer intensity of Edward's eyes. It was an overwhelming, heady thing to look into them for so long. I felt oddly exposed, as if those green orbs were boring right down into my soul. Feeling self-conscious, I tore my eyes away from his and looked down at my hands in my lap.

I heard him exhale loudly. "Okay."

"Why did you leave Chicago?" I asked quickly.

"My father is a doctor. A really great one. A hospital offered him good money to make the move and take the job here, so he did. And we moved." He shrugged.

I took a drag of my cigarette. "Do you have any siblings?"

He exhaled a stream of smoke, and it was very hard not to notice the sensual way his lips caressed the thick cloud as it billowed out between them. "Yeah. I have two brothers."

"Are they younger or older?" I was in full on Spanish Inquisition mode now. _The best defense is a good offense, right?_

"Emmett's two years older than me. Jasper is four months younger."

"Oh?" I said, and my confusion made it come out like a question. _How is that possible?_

"I was adopted." Edward said, answering my unspoken question. "We all were."

"Oh." I said again, nodding. That made more sense. "How old were you when…"

"Esme and Carlisle adopted me when I was 14."

"14? What about before then?" I was starting to feel like a reporter doing a fucking interview.

"Foster care. My biological parents died when I was a baby."

"I'm sorry."

He stuck his cigarette between his lips and took a long pull. "Thanks. I don't remember them at all, though. Carlisle and Esme are the only parents I've ever known."

I could hear the intensity of the love and respect he felt for his adopted parents in his tone. I couldn't think of anything to say. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being our soft pulls on our cigarettes and the burning of tobacco and paper.

"What was it like?" I asked softly.

"What?"

"Foster care." I looked at his face.

His eyes tightened faintly, and his lips pressed into a hard line. "That's not exactly light conversation." He said, stealing my line from earlier. He gave me a sideways glance, and his face softened into an easy smile.

"Fair enough."

"How about your parents? They live in Phoenix, I assume?"

"My parents were divorced. My father lived in a little town in Washington. He died when I was seven."

"I'm sorry. Were you close?"

"Very."

"Your mom?"

"She lives in Phoenix."

"And?"

"And… it's complicated."

I heard him laugh softly, and snapped my head up to look at him. "What's funny?"

"Nothing, it's just… I get the feeling we are two very complex people."

"I think you're right. So let's move on to less complicated subjects, shall we?"

He smirked at me and nodded. I ground out the butt of my cigarette as he took the last drag of his.

"So, how old are you?"

"21, as of last month."

"Baby."

"How old are you?"

"24."

"Yes, because you are _so_ much older than me." I rolled my eyes. "Ass." I threw an elbow toward his ribs, but he jumped off the bench and out of the way.

"Come on." He held out a hand to me. "Do you want to head back? It's getting chilly."

"It's October in New York, get used to it." I said scathingly, but I took his hand. Any excuse to touch him was fine by me. His palm and the pads of his fingers were rough and calloused, like he worked with his hands. He pulled me off the bench, and we started walking back in the direction of our building.

"So, Bella."

"So, Edward." Just then, something popped into my head. "Hey, does anyone call you Eddie? Or Ed?"

He looked a taken back by my sudden random question. "Well, Emmett calls me Ed sometimes, but just to annoy me. He knows I hate it. No one calls me Eddie."

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I just like Edward."

"Me too. It suits you." I felt my cheeks heat up, and I turned my face away from him.

"You don't like to be called Isabella." It wasn't a question.

"No, I like Bella."

"Why?"

"Isabella is so… formal. Proper. It's classical and elegant, and I'm just…" I sighed, and finished lamely, "I like Bella."

"Well, Bella fits you, too." He paused. "Where did that question come from anyway?"

"Just something Alice asked me last night." I immediately regretted Alice's name as soon as I said it. I wanted to grab the word from the air and shove it back down my throat.

"Ah, you mean the babbling pixie?"

My face, which was still not completely back to normal from my last bout of embarrassment, probably resembled a tomato by now.

"I was meaning to ask you about that. What exactly did she mean by 'Mr. Fuckable'?"

I shifted my hair over my right shoulder to hide my face. "Are you really going to make me talk about this?"

His voice was dripping with amusement. "Definitely."

I sighed. I heard his footsteps cut off suddenly, and I lifted my head to see why he had stopped. He was staring at me, and I stopped walking, furrowing my eyebrows at him. He moved a few steps closer to stand right in front of me, and looked down at me with a serious expression on his beautiful face. He raised one of his hands, and stuck one finger underneath me chin, bringing my eyes up to meet his. I gasped at the contact.

"Won't you tell me?" His voice was low, smooth, seductive. His eyes were scorching pools of liquid green fire. I hated myself for being so consumed by him.

"You suck." I said quietly, and sighed. "Fine. So, after we first met, I may or may not have described you to Alice as 'my fuckable new neighbor'. Hence, Mr. Fuckable."

His lips twitched slightly, and then he was laughing. Hard. He didn't fool me, though, because I saw the blush that was forming on his cheeks. He was embarrassed. Good, that made two of us. _That's what you get_. He released my chin and we started walking again, him still engulfed in his laugh attack, me with a scowl on my face and all shades of red. I sighed.

"If it makes you feel any better, my brothers know you as the 'Hot Bitch'." He managed to get out through his chuckles.

I gaped at him, and my blush reached an impossibly darker shade of red, from my hairline to my chest. If this kept up, they were going to have to create a whole new color spectrum to support the shades of my face. "No, somehow, that does _not_ make me feel better."

Then, to put the cherry on top of the shitcake that was my life, the toe of my sneaker caught on a crack in the sidewalk, sending my sprawling forward. _Seriously?_ Apparently, my life was just one long fucking practical joke, and I was the ongoing punch line. I threw my hands out to break my fall, but it was unnecessary. I felt Edward's strong arms snake around my waist, holding me upright. Keeping me from falling down. I looked up at him, and his lips were mashed together to stifle his laughter, his eyes glinting with humor. I was so humiliated by my perpetually ineptness, that all I wanted to do was melt into the pavement. It didn't help any that Edward's mere presence seemed to turn my head into an unrecognizable jumbled mess.

"You're not so graceful, are you?" I tried not to notice that his arms were still around me, and holding on to me a little tighter than was really necessary.

"I am the opposite of graceful." I said, righting myself. His arms slipped slowly off of my waist. "I am a danger on my feet." I groaned. "It's so exhausting to be a walking, talking disaster."

"You're not a disaster. You're quirky."

I scoffed. "Why don't you wait until you've known me for a few weeks before you make that assessment? I _am_ good for a laugh, though, if you find people falling down and bumping into things funny." I said bitterly.

"So you're clumsy." He shrugged. "It's endearing."

"It's irritating."

"To you." He qualified.

I huffed. He laughed, and I glared at him. "Are you pouting?"

"No." I lied, and tried to regain my composure. I was just so mad at myself for being a complete moron in front of him. _Story of my life_.

"Yes you are. Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself." I grumbled. I heard him sigh heavily, but I didn't turn to see his face.

The rest of the walk back to our apartments was filled with silence. Every step we took, I felt more and more like a sulking child, and I stayed quiet out of embarrassment at my tantrum, rather than my embarrassment at _being embarrassing_.

Being with him in the small, enclosed space of the elevator was overwhelming. He smelled clean and sexy, like soap and cinnamon with a hint of tobacco. I was torn between my yearning to jump his bones, and my need to press myself so far into the wall that I'd become a part of it and disappear all together.

I felt a strong sense of relief when the elevator stopped at out floor, and I all but sprinted out of the doors as soon as they slid open. I decided, though, that running down the hall wasn't such a great idea if I planned on maintaining any semblance of dignity. I got to my front door and quickly pulled out my keys, my ears fixed on the sound of his footsteps. I heard him stop in front of his door, but he didn't pull out his keys. Instead, he paused for a moment, and then I heard his feet pick up again, walking over to me.

"Bella?" I turned, and he was right in front of me, his forehead creased in a look of concentration that confused me.

"Yeah?" I choked out. I felt so small.

He looked intently into my eyes. "Leaving a girl as beautiful as you with a frown on her face is criminal." His hand went into his hair. "Look… I know that don't know you very well, but I also know that I _want_ to. What I can tell so far is that you're smart, and quirky, funny, and charming. You're also extremely blunt, and, apparently, self-deprecating for some reason that I don't understand. All of which I find very endearing. So stop being so hard on yourself, okay? You're only human." He reached up and brushed my cheek with his fingertips, sending off sparks of electricity under my skin. "You're beautiful. A beautiful person too, I'm sure of it."

I couldn't say anything. I was caught up in his intensity and the incredible feeling of his calloused fingers on my skin. He smiled down at me, and I smiled back without ever really deciding to. It was automatic.

"Can I see you again soon?"

I nodded woodenly. "Yeah." My voice was tight and husky, and I cleared my throat. "We should probably set up specific times though, seeing as we live so far away from each other." Sarcasm. Sarcasm was good.

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at me, a trace of amusement on his face. "You know what I mean."

"Um, sure. We'll talk, okay?"

"Okay." He smiled and moved toward his door. "Bye Bella."

"Bye Edward." When I got into my apartment, I closed the door and pressed my back to it, slid down to the floor, and thought about what he had said.

I had no illusions about myself. I knew I could be a knockout when I made myself up, but normally I was just… average. Plain. On the outside. On the inside, I was jaded, twisted, damaged, and tainted. Nothing he had said about me was true. He didn't know me… but for some reason, hearing Edward's voice saying the words made me _want_ to believe them. So for now, I let myself pretend that he was right. It gave me a sense of self-worth, albeit false, to let his words resound in my head in the same conviction with which he had spoken them. I knew that if he really got to know me, he would quickly realize how wrong he was about me. But for now, I would just let myself pretend.

*****

**So, what did you think? Let me know.**

**Just a quick thing that I want to let you all in on: Edward's intensity may seem a little off and misplaced right now, but it's definitely part of my whole master plan. It will be explained later on in the story.**

**Also, for those of you who may be wondering, Bella's profession may seem a little bit glamorized so far, but I will be getting into the darker aspects of her job soon enough. This story may seem a bit light and fluffy right now, but I promise it will delve a whole lot deeper and darker in due time.**

***Crossing my fingers* I'm hoping to have another post up by Monday. Definitely by early next week, I promise.**

**Up next: Where there's an Alice, there's a party!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for the reviews. Special thanks to Lilliput: your amazing reviews keep me motivated.**

**The posting schedule from now on will be Tuesdays and Fridays.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, I would be very rich. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*

Autumn was now in full swing, and the streets of New York were beautiful. The leaves on the trees outside were completely transformed into amazing spurts of red, orange, yellow, purple, and gold. A thick layer of vibrant leaves covered the streets and sidewalks, and danced around as the brisk wind blew. Halloween was one week away, and that could only mean one thing: Alice was throwing a party.

Saturday afternoon, Alice came barging into my door and dropped a thick packet on to the coffee table in front of me. She had another packet tucked under her arm.

"What's this?" I said, picking it up and flipping through it cursorily. It was filled with women scantily clad in Halloween costumes.

"These are the costumes you have to choose from."

"So, you're handing out packets of acceptable costumes to people now?"

She shook her head and glared at me. "No. I'm just doing this for you. You suck at costume selection."

"Hey. My costume last year was pretty decent."

"Bella, you wore a red t-shirt and a two dollar headband with horns on it, and called yourself a devil. That is not creative _at all_. It's Halloween, for fuck's sake! It only comes once a year!"

"Okay, okay. Don't blow a gasket, geez. I'll look."

"Good." She danced off toward the kitchen. "I'm putting on some coffee."

I looked down at the packet again, and started going through it, actually looking at the pictures this time. Most of the costumes were extremely revealing, and dreadfully cheesy. Like the costume for Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Last time I checked, Dorothy didn't wear a corset and a garter belt. Alice said the point was to be a 'sexified' version of the character. I just rolled my eyes. Halloween, in my eyes, was about getting the shit scared out of you, and scaring the shit out of people. But I would be good and play by Alice's rules.

After a few hours, I found a costume I really loved. Alice said that it was the one she thought I would go for. She found one for herself, too, and we made plans to go pick them up at the Halloween store tomorrow.

Since it was almost six o'clock by that time, we were both starving, and I didn't feel like cooking, we decided to head down to the pizzeria to grab some subs for dinner.

As I was turned around locking the deadbolt, I heard the door across the hall open. My hands shook as they tried to concentrate on the task of sticking the key into the lock. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder to see that Edward was standing with his back toward me, mirroring my actions. A tall, attractive man with curly blonde hair was standing beside him, and I figured this must be the same guy Alice had been talking about last week, the one on the elevator. His lips were turned up at the edges in a small smile and his ocean blue eyes were trained on something just to my left. I followed his gaze, and realized that he and Alice were looking into each other's eyes, locked in some silent staring contest. I elbowed Alice in the ribs lightly, and she turned toward me, blinking rapidly. I arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"Bella!" My head snapped up and my heart gave itself a tight little squeeze in response.

I hadn't seen Edward since our little outing on Sunday morning. I was booked three nights last week, and all of my spare time was spent shopping for party decorations and supplies with Alice. It was strange, because I found myself thinking about him a lot more than I should. I'd even dreamt about him this week. The dreams weren't about anything in particular: just seeing his face, hearing his voice, and laughing with him. Getting lost in his eyes. I raised my head to meet those very eyes just then, and my stomach did a somersault.

"Hi Edward." I nudged Alice and walked over to where Edward and his friend stood.

He smiled at me. "This is my brother, Jasper. Jasper, this is Bella."

Jasper shot him a sly look. "_This_ is Bella?"

Edward nodded and laughed, while I glared at him. His brothers knew me as the Hot Bitch. Hilarious. _But that _does_ mean he thinks you're hot. Hm…_

"Pleasure to meet you, Bella." Jasper stuck out his hand, and I shook it.

"Nice to meet you, too."

Alice stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Alice."

She reached out to shake Jasper's hand. Instead, he lifted her hand, ducked his head, and kissed the back of it. Alice blushed furiously. I'd _never_ seen Alice blush. I figured this was as good a time as any to exact my revenge.

"Oh, Alice. This must be Delicious Elevator Guy, right? You said he was blonde." And Team Swan ties up the score.

Alice shot daggers at me with her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?"

"No."

I decided to let it go. She was embarrassed sufficiently enough. Besides, I really didn't feel like getting my hair chopped off in my sleep or getting x-lax put in my morning coffee. Damn me for giving her a key to my apartment. Alice turned her attention to Edward.

"It's nice to finally meet _you_, Edward… officially. Sorry about the whole 'Mr. Fuckable' thing last weekend."

Edward shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Oh. Uh, that's okay. I…"

"Okay, let's not broach the subject unnecessarily, huh?" I interrupted. Edward's discomfort was making _me_ uncomfortable. My cheeks were flaming, and Alice crossed her arms over her chest, her face smug. Another point for Team Brandon. _Bitch_.

"So, um… where are you two headed?" I asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

"We were just going to get something to eat." Edward answered, hand diving into his hair.

Alice's excited voice decided to make an appearance. "Us too. And then we were going to hit the bar. You guys should totally come get drinks with us!"

Edward and Jasper looked at each other. Edward shrugged, and Jasper beamed.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." Jasper said, eyes on Alice, who was glowing.

"Cool." I said.

Alice and I started walking down the hall, a few feet in front of Edward and Jasper. Alice leaned in close to me.

"Hot!" She whispered, surprisingly quietly for her.

"I know, right?"

I smiled and laughed with her, but mentally, I was kicking Alice's ass right about now. They were coming out for drinks with us, and I was terrified. It was dangerous for me to be around Edward when I was drunk. But for a drunken _me_ to be around a drunken _Edward_? That would be absolutely lethal.

*

At the bar, we grabbed a round table with four tall bar stools. I sat down, and Alice took the seat on my right, Edward on my left. Jasper didn't sit down right away.

"I'll go grab the drinks. What's your poison?" He asked.

"Whiskey." I said.

"Martini, straight up, two olives." Alice said.

Edward looked down at the table. "Club soda for me."

"Okay. I'll be right back." Jasper left and made his way over to the bar.

I turned to Edward. "You're not drinking?"

"No. I don't drink alcohol."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated." He said, raising his eyes to meet mine, and smiling humorously at me.

I rolled my eyes. This was becoming a recurrent quote with us. "Naturally."

"So, you take your liquor straight?"

I shrugged. "I do mixed drinks sometimes, but I don't really have patience for girlie drinks."

He considered that for a moment. "That seems fitting."

I scoffed and raised an eyebrow. "What exactly does that mean?"

"You're very straightforward. You don't do fluff and frills and all that bullshit. You like to get straight to the point."

"You could say that. But, there are definitely exceptions."

Alice started laughing, and I realized the inadvertent double meaning in my words. I blushed and shot her a glare.

"It's strange, though." Edward continued, as if he missed the exchange. "You're like… a walking contradiction." He said matter-of-factly.

"Really?" I asked dubiously.

Edward stretched his arms over his head, pushing out his chest to crack his back. It was impossible not to get distracted by the way his white t-shirt pulled taut against him.

"Yeah. See, you're so blunt and direct, but everything about you is hidden. You always have your guard up. Like I said, walking contradiction. You're a straight shooter, but you're a mystery."

I looked down at the table, suddenly uncomfortable, and began tracing patters against the red linoleum with my fingertip. "I think you have me confused with someone interesting."

Alice, probably sensing my discomfort, chose that moment to intervene. "Can we stop with the psychoanalytical crap for tonight? It's Saturday night, and we're at a bar. We're kind of required to have fun."

I shot her an appreciative glance and she winked at me. Jasper appeared at the table with our drinks then, and I took mine eagerly, gulping down a mouthful.

The next hour consisted of listening to Alice and Jasper getting to know each other. We found out that Jasper had a degree in English Literature, and was going for his teaching license. I also found out that Edward was a mechanic, which fit so perfectly with my idea of him, I almost didn't believe it to be true. And it also put dirty fantasies about car hoods and garages into my head. Jasper and Alice were flirting all night, and were so enraptured with each other, they'd all but forgotten mine and Edward's presence after a while. We decided to go out for a smoke, figuring they wouldn't miss us much.

"They seem to be hitting it off."

"Right? I've never seen Alice like that with anyone before. Jasper must be a real charmer."

"Yeah, he's a good ole Texas boy."

"He seems great. Guess it runs in the family."

"Are you being sarcastic, or are you actually being complimentary?"

"Hey, I'm capable of being nice. Besides, it's true, you are great."

"Well, then, thanks. You're great too."

"Don't be too grateful. It might just be the whiskey talking."

The wind blew a cold gust of air straight at us, and I shivered. "I thought alcohol is supposed to keep you warm." I griped, wrapping one arm around myself.

Wordlessly, Edward unzipped his jacket and held it open wide, stepping toward me. "Come here."

I bit my lip, hesitant. I didn't know if I could trust myself to be that close to him. But then the wind blew again, angrier this time, as if compelling me to go to him. I obliged.

I snaked one arm under his jacket and around to his back, keeping one hand free so I could smoke my cigarette. Edward pulled the sides of his jacket tight around me and wound one arm around my waist. We stood there and smoked in silence for a few minutes, my head facing one way, his facing the other so we wouldn't blow smoke in each other's faces. Between drags, I rested my cheek against his chest. I couldn't help it: he was big and strong and just _so_ warm. I absently rubbed his back with my hand.

"You keep that up, I might just have to take advantage of you tonight."

I rested my chin on his chest and glared up at him playfully. "In your dreams, pal." I said, and pinched his side.

At that moment, I was hit with the shocking realization of just _how close_ we were. I was pressed up against him, and his head was bowed, looking down into my eyes. Our faces were mere inches apart, and I was stunned at just how comfortable I was. The awareness of that fact made me suddenly very uncomfortable. I unfolded myself from the refuge of his arms and threw my cigarette on the ground, crushing it with my sneaker. The loss of his warmth and contact was almost painful. I turned and walked back into the bar with Edward on my heels.

"Bell, I was just telling Jasper that he and Edward should totally come to the party this weekend. Don't you think that's a great idea?" Alice was exclaiming before I'd even gotten to the table. Her words were running together with excitement again.

"What party?" Edward asked as we took our seats.

"Alice is throwing a Halloween party." I answered him.

"Is it a costume party?"

"Its Halloween, shithead. What other kind is there?" Alice said, exasperated.

I laughed at her. "You guys should absolutely come. Alice's parties are always the best. Guaranteed a good time."

Jasper smiled. "Definitely." I had a feeling that he would be up for anything involving Alice. They two had barely taken their eyes off each other all night.

I turned to Edward. "You better come too, mister."

"If you're going, I'll be there."

I tried, futilely, to hold off my blush. "Good." My voice broke. Nonchalance: FAIL.

"Do you think it'd be all right if our brother Emmett and his wife come?"

Alice beamed. "The more, the merrier. It _is_ a party."

*

Jasper left the table to get the next round of drinks a little while later, and I desperately had to use the bathroom. I'd been holding it for a while, determined not to break the seal, but I couldn't hold it off any longer. I left Alice and Edward at the table to go and use the revolting cesspool that Rowdy's called a restroom. Just looking at the toilet made me want to take a bath in hand sanitizer.

When I was walking back to the table, Edward was nodding his head at Alice with a thoughtful look on his face, and her face was solemn. I was instantly wary. _What the fuck were they talking about that had them both so serious?_ I got to the table and hopped back up onto my chair. Alice and Edward's faces both morphed into easy smiles, and I grew even more suspicious. I _knew_ they'd been talking about me.

"How was the bathroom?" Alice asked as soon as I sat down.

I looked at her skeptically. "How do you think it was? It's Rowdy's. Disgusting, as usual."

"They really should invest in a better cleaning crew." She mused.

I glanced back and forth between Edward and Alice. "What-"

Just then, Jasper came back holding a tray of drinks. "Whose ready for round four?"

*

Half an hour later, Alice and I were both very sloshed, and being embarrassingly giggly and girlie.

"Edward." Alice said seriously, gravely. I laughed at her expression.

"What?" Edward asked, warily.

"Do you know who you look like right now? Bella… wait, Edward, put on your jacket."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Edward furrowed his eyebrows, but did as she instructed. He pulled his leather jacket off the back of the chair and put it on.

"Perfect. Bella, doesn't he look like Kenickie?"

I burst into laughter. "Oh my God. Edward, you totally look just like Kenickie!"

Alice narrowed her eyes and rubbed her chin in deep concentration. "The hair is wrong, though. Bella, fix his hair."

I looked at Edward, who was looking back and forth between Alice and me with a nervous smile and wary eyes. I reached my hand up hesitantly, and he turned toward me in his seat, leaning slightly forward, granting me permission. I almost died when my fingers touched the precious locks of bronze hair. I felt like I should be saying a prayer. It was even softer than I had ever imagined. I ran my fingers slowly through the beautiful strands, learning the texture, committing it to memory. I twirled a thick piece of it into a curly Q to hang down over his forehead. The rest didn't really need to be messed with, but I was greedy, and so I smoothed the back and sides a bit more than necessary, just to indulge my perverse fascination. I pulled away reluctantly, and Alice squealed.

"Perfect! Now, say 'A hickie from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card.'" Alice and I said the line together.

Edward laughed. "What?"

"Who the fuck is Kenickie, anyways?"

Alice and I both whipped our heads around to stare at Jasper with wide eyes. "You mean, you've never seen 'Grease'?" I asked incredulously.

"No?" I think my intense expression may have scared him, because his answer came out like a question.

I turned to Edward. "Have you?"

He just shook his head. Alice and I exchanged a disbelieving look.

"John Travolta? Olivia Newton-John? Guys, this is one of the greatest movies of all time!"

"Never saw it." Edward said with a shrug.

I hopped down from the stool, grabbed my jacket, and turned for the door. "Let's go."

"Where?" His voice was amused. I turned back to face him.

"Home. I won't stand for this blasphemy. This calls for an emergency Grease screening."

When we got back to the apartment, I insisted we watched the movie at Edward's, claiming it was because his TV was bigger than mine. It was, but that wasn't the real reason. The real reason was that I had this weird thing when it came to letting people into my apartment. My place was my safe zone, my sanctuary, and I didn't let just anyone into my safe zone.

I ran into my apartment quickly to grab the DVD, and then I returned to Edward's. I put the disc in the DVD player and pressed play.

"Prepare to be blown away."

Alice and I sang every single line of every single song, starting with the opening 'Grease' all the way up until the ending notes of 'We Go Together'. Edward and Jasper laughed at our drunken ballads, but we didn't care. We were having so much fun. It was a strange kind of feeling, the four of us sitting together on Edward's couch, laughing and joking and having a ball. It was like we had always been friends.

I didn't notice how close I had gotten to Edward during the movie until I had to actually get up to take it out. I was cuddled up into his side, one arm lying on the cushion beside me, the other on his thigh. His arm was slung over the back of the couch, his hand resting on my shoulder. Again, it was unnerving for me to realize just how completely comfortable I was with him, just like this. It was foreign to me. I unwound myself from his arm to take out the DVD, and I swear I heard him sigh.

"Hey, Alice? Maybe you should just sleepover tonight. I don't want you taking the subway alone when you're smashed." I said as I was waiting for the disc tray to open.

"I'll be fine, Bella."

"No, she's right." Jasper insisted. "You know what, I'll drive you home. It's on my way anyways."

"Are you sure?" Alice's eyes were wide.

"Yeah." He smiled at her, and she beamed. I swear I could feel the cavity forming already.

We all went out into the hallway and were saying our goodbyes.

"Call me tomorrow." I said, hugging Alice.

"Of course! We have shopping to do!" She said excitedly.

I groaned. "On second thought, Jasper, if you could just leave her somewhere, that would be great."

Alice slapped my arm lightly and laughed. "Bitch."

"I would never." Jasper said chivalrously.

I rolled my eyes. "You too should probably get going." I didn't think I could take anymore of their sickeningly sweet words to each other. Alice was acting so unlike herself, it was making my head spin.

Alice sighed. "Okay, Bella, I can take a hint. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye Edward."

"Bye Alice. See you, Jazz."

"Later." I said with a wave.

Alice took Jasper's arm, and they were off down the hallway.

I turned to Edward. He was leaning in his doorway, one hand on the frame, one hand in his pocket, with an impish smile on his face. He shifted his eyes over his shoulder and back to me suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. I opened my mouth in a wide 'O' in mock excitement, and crouched like I was going to run over to him. Then I straightened, scrunched up my face, and shook my head. He snapped his fingers and swung his arm in front of him.

"Rats!" He said.

"Aren't I supposed to be the horny one? I _am_ drunk."

"I don't know. You tell me." He said, wiggling his eyebrows again.

I laughed. "Goodnight, Edward."

"You're no fun."

"_Goodnight_, Edward." I said again as I opened my door.

"Fine." He sighed, and retreated into his apartment with a look of defeat on his face. I laughed and closed the door.

*

Sunday morning, I woke bright and early to a major migraine and the horrific realization that I had no cigarettes. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, threw my hair up, pulled on some jeans and my jacket, and was out the door.

I almost turned right back around.

Edward was just coming out of his apartment, looking like a picture out of a magazine. His hair was dark and wet, and matted to his forehead, probably from the shower. He was wearing his usual jeans-and-a-t-shirt get up, with that sexy leather jacket. He looked like a model; I probably looked like a cross between a member of the living dead and medusa.

"You look rough." were the first words out of his mouth.

I felt my face heat up. "Really? I _feel_ fabulous."

"Hangover?"

"I don't even think that begins to cover it."

"Where are you headed off to so early?"

"Cigarette run."

"Me too."

Great. That meant I would have to actually walk down the street to the store with him, looking like this. I never really cared much about my appearance, but when you're walking beside someone as beautiful and perfect as Edward, you can't help but be super self-aware. It's a rudimentary instinct.

"What exactly is this party going to be like?" He asked when we got outside.

"Oh, you'll love it. I'm not really much of a party person, but Alice's parties are kickass."

"Do a lot of people show up?"

I snorted. "Hell yeah. Her neighborhood is mainly, like, college kids and people our age, so pretty much the whole neighborhood is there. No one ever complains or anything, obviously. It's not really crowded though, because there's a lot of room. There are four apartments in Alice's house: Alice is on the second floor; across the hall from her are this couple Eleazar and Carmen. They're twenty-six or twenty-seven. Then downstairs are the roommates Lauren and Jessica." I rolled my eyes. "Avoid them like the plague. They're the type of girls who act like the world is fucking high school. They're all drama." He nodded." And then across from them is Eric, who is unbelievably fucking awesome. All four apartments are just left open, and Alice decorates the hallway, which is huge, so there are people everywhere. It's kind of like a dorm party, but a million times more fun."

"Sounds killer." Edward said incredulously.

"It is. Alice doesn't do anything halfway." I remembered something. "Oh, I should warn you. Alice takes the whole costume thing really seriously, and she hates it when people dress up as stupid shit. Last year, a guy showed up as a giant penis, and she kicked him out."

"She threw him out for being a dick?"

I smirked at his joke. "That's not the worst part. It was Eric, the guy that lives downstairs."

"She threw him out of his own house?" I nodded. "Damn, you weren't kidding. She _is_ fierce."

"That's Alice."

We were at the store now, and he held the door open for me. We walked up to the counter.

"A pack of Camel Lights." I said.

"Make that two."

"Together or separate?" The cashier asked.

I said "Separate," at the same time as Edward was saying "Together." He gave me a meaningful look, then turned back to the clerk. "Together."

I was a little taken back by his gesture. He was buying things for me now? _What the fuck?_

"Fine." I said. "Next time, they're on me."

When we got outside the store, he handed me one of the packs.

"Thanks. So, now you're contributing to my poor health?" I asked warily.

He looked over at me, took in my expression, and laughed. "Yes, Bella. It's all a part of my master plan."

"That's vindictive." I said, stopping to light a cigarette. I almost moaned at the sensation of the smoke going down my throat. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"If I was trying to kill you, don't you think cigarettes would be a tedious method?"

I shrugged. "I don't know your mind."

He sighed, obviously not having patience for my bitter sarcasm this morning. "Can't you just let someone do something for you without thinking there's an ulterior motive?"

"No." I handed him my lighter.

He shook his head and lit his cigarette. "Another one of your mysteries."

We started walking again. "I'm _not_ mysterious."

"Right. You're complicated." I pushed him. "Seriously. I've been spending all this time with you, and I still feel like I've barely even scratched the surface. I can't figure you out"

"Ever think maybe you're just not that good at reading people?"

"No. I'm excellent at reading people. You're just…" He paused. "I don't know. You don't _want_ to be figured out."

"So, you'd rather blame it on my evasiveness than your inadequacies?"

He nodded. I scoffed. "That's rich."

"When do you suppose we're going to stop being so cryptic with each other?" He asked suddenly.

I bit my lip and flicked the ashes off the end of my cigarette. "Eventually." I shrugged. "Or never. I guess time will tell."

I looked over at him, and his jaw was clenched. It wasn't like I was in such a cheerful mood this morning, either. I had a killer hangover and I looked like a bum walking next to this God of a man. But I didn't understand why he was so riled. We walked in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you have a costume yet?" He asked abruptly.

"What?"

"For the party? Do you have a costume?" His voice was disinterested, like he was forcing himself to make conversation.

"Uh, no. Well, yeah, I have it picked out already. I'm going to actually _buy_ it today."

"What is it?"

"You'll see it on Saturday."

He turned to me with a small smile. "Is it a secret?"

His erratic mood changes were really throwing me for a loop this morning. "Do you know what you're going as?"

'No. I'll pick something up this week."

"Oh."

We lapsed into a tense silence again. The walk back home seemed ten times longer than the initial walk _to_ the store. Edward's hand seemed to be compulsively running through his hair, and I watched the ground as I walked. Neither one of us said anything again until we got back to the building. Even then, it was just a quick 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' when he opened the door for me.

"Do you want to go to the party together?" He asked suddenly as we stepped off the elevator.

"What? Um." It took me a second to understand what he was asking; I was just so mystified by his shifting moods. I bit my lip. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I always go extra early, to help Alice set up. So I'll already be there."

"All right. I'll just see you there, then."

"Yeah."

I went into my apartment, feeling oddly off balance and completely confused. _What the hell just happened?_

*

A few hours later, Alice and I were in a store surrounded by fake blood, scary masks, and severed body parts. The Halloween store was huge, and aside from when Alice decided to pick up a fake spider and chase me around with it, it was so much fun. I was a serious arachnophobe.

We were now _finally_ making our way over to the costume section. We had been here for over an hour, but got caught up looking at all of the amazing decorations and merchandise they had here. Alice had been spending the last half hour talking about Jasper, and I'd decided to tune her out when she started describing how incredibly hot he was. I had eyes; I didn't need a play-by-play description.

"You're different when you're around him." She said suddenly.

I hadn't realized the conversation had moved on from the shape of Jasper's chin. "What? Who are you talking about?"

"Isabella Swan, don't give me that. You know exactly what _and_ who I'm talking about! _Edward_. You're like… I don't know how to describe it. Still nervous and awkward, but… freer. Lighter. And tense at the same time." She shook her head. "I can't explain it right, I just know what I see."

"Or _maybe_ you dropped one too many acid this morning."

"Say no to drugs." She said sternly, shaking a bloody, severed hand at me.

I laughed and swatted it. "He's so frustrating, though. We went to the store to get cigs this morning, and he was acting so bizarre."

"What do you mean?"

I gave her a rundown of our whole interaction from this morning. "I don't get what his problem is. One minute, he's all playful and joking, and then he gets all aggravated on me."

"Well, maybe you're frustrating him."

"What did I do?" I said innocently.

"Bella, the guy is trying to get to know you, and you're doing what you always do. To _everyone_. You're holding him at arms length with your snarky remarks and sarcasm."

"I can't help being who I am, Alice." I said quietly.

"I'm not saying that. But, you like him. I can tell. You can tell me you don't all you want, but I know that you do."

"It doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Because it's true. Whether or not I like him is irrelevant. It's not like anything is going to be done about it, either way. I don't do relationships. I'm not that girl."

"Everyone is subject to change, Bells."

"Not me."

"No, you just don't _want_ to change. You think you deserve to be alone and miserable, and you know what? You're wrong."

I bristled. "I'm not miserable."

"This is me you're talking to, Bella. I know you. Don't try to pull that shit over on me."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not bouncing off the walls with joy, but I'm not miserable. I'm _content_."

"Don't you want to be more than just passively content with your life?" She asked quietly.

I looked away, fighting back tears. "I don't see how that's possible."

"Come on Bella, really?" Alice's voice was irritated. I turned to her, and she threw her hands up in exasperation. "So, you're just going to let Edward slip away, because that's what you know? Because you're afraid?"

"I'm not afraid."

"You're _terrified_. I can see it in your face every time you talk about him. The light in your eyes. And you're scared shit, because it's something you don't know."

"I don't know _him_. We barely even know each other."

"But clearly, there's something there."

"Yeah, there is something. Attraction. He's fucking hot, Alice. There's no way around it. But I've been attracted to guys before, it's not as big of a deal as you make it seem."

"So you won't even try and get to know him? You won't even attempt to explore this?" I didn't answer. "My God, Bella, it's not like it's impossible to open up to someone. You did it with me."

"That's different. You _get_ me. You understand."

"You don't think he's capable of that?"

"That's not the point." I shook my head vehemently. "We're just friends. End of story."

"The way you two were acting together last night didn't seem just friendly."

"What do you want me to do, Alice?" I snapped. "Start dating him, okay, and then what? 'By the way, Edward, I have sex with men for money.' That'll go over real well." I scoffed. "Why should I let him in, tell him everything, open up old wounds, and let myself bleed for _nothing_? Why should I put myself through that?" Alice's brows furrowed, and she looked down, hurt by my sudden flaring anger. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm sorry, Alice. I didn't mean to snap on you."

"It's okay, Bella." She rubbed my back soothingly. "I can see that this is affecting you a lot more than I thought."

"It doesn't matter." I said again. "I can be his friend. That's the extent of it." I said with a sort of sad finality.

Alice sighed, and then without missing a beat, started prattling on incessantly about the party. I pretended to listen and tried very hard not to let everything she had said sink in.

*

Saturday came quicker than I thought possible. I'd seen Edward a few times this week, in the hallway or the elevator, and everything between us was normal enough. I brought him over some of the monkey bread I promised him on Thursday, and his face was much the same as it had been when I brought him the cookies: a kid on Christmas.

"Fucking cum guzzler." I said as my bag carrying my boots fell off my shoulder and hit me in the foot.

I heard stifled laughs coming from across the hall, and turned around to see Edward standing outside his door with a big, brawny, dark haired man.

"You okay, there, Bella?" Edward asked.

"Yeah. Just fucking peachy. Alice made me buy these death traps that I can't even walk in, not to mention they weigh about 50 pounds each. Not exactly the best sensation when they hit your fucking foot. I don't know how she expects me to maneuver in these things when I'm wasted."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out."

"You _better_ be there. If I don't see you at Alice's tonight, you're going to know what it feels like to have a size 7 stiletto boot stuck in your anal cavity."

Edward's friend had a huge, cheeky grin on his face. "This must be the Hot Bitch, then? Damn. Hot, she is, little bro. But subtle… she is not."

"Quick question: is there any particular reason why you're talking like Yoda, or is that your normal manner of speaking?" I asked bitingly.

He bellowed a laugh. "You've got sass, little one, I'll give you that. But I'm used to it. My wife could run circles around you." He stuck out his hand. "Emmett."

I shook it. "Bella."

"I know. Edward's told me _all_ about you."

"Really?" I shot a glance over to Edward. "Don't believe a word of it."

"Not even the good things?" He smirked.

I grinned mischievously. "Were there good things?" I said in mock surprise. "Don't believe those, _especially_." My tone was joking on the surface, but I was hit by the truth in them as they came out.

He laughed. "I like you Bella. I have to say, Edward didn't do you justice when he was describing you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." He paused. "You're a lot more of a bitch then he let on." He finished with a grin.

I laughed. "I like you, too, Emmett. You're good." A tug on my shoulder grabbed my attention then. I turned to look at Edward, who was surreptitiously trying to unzip the bag that hung on my arm. I yanked it away. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to see your costume." He said, and his expression was very much like a kid who just got caught sneaking cookies before dinner.

"Nice try, but it's already at Alice's. Only the clonkers are in here. You'll see it tonight."

"I'm impatient."

"Tough." He groaned. I stuck my tongue out at him. "So, listen. Your best bet is probably to take the subway in instead of driving. Parking around Alice's neighborhood is a nightmare on normal days. When she's having a party…" I widened my eyes and trailed off.

"Yeah, Alice told Jasper that, too."

I nodded. "You have the address and everything?"

"Jasper has it."

I smiled. "Okay, then. I'll see you guys there."

I turned and walked down the hall. "Dude, she's fucking hot." Emmett's deep voice roared. I laughed to myself.

*

When I turned on to the walk way up to Alice's house, I stopped to admire her work. The front lawn was strewn with gravestones and severed body parts, the walkway lined with flood lights that weren't turned on yet, but that I knew would be exuding red light. The stairs were lined with creepy looking plastic pumpkins. It was all very tastefully done: Alice didn't do cheese. I walked up through the front door, and it was as if Halloween had vomited all over the hallway. There were fake cobwebs, orange and black streamers, ghosts and skeletons hanging on the walls, and a huge black furry spider hanging from one of the corners. I blanched and averted my eyes. I would do my best to avoid that corner all night.

"Alice?" I called.

"In here, Bella." Her voice was coming from Eric's apartment.

"I thought you said you were going to tone it down with the decorations this year." I said as I rounded the corner to find her sifting through a huge box of CD's.

"No. What I said was 'I'm not going to decorate _as much_ as last year. And I'm not. I'm decorating _more_. Geez, Bella, you think you'd be fluent in Alice-speak by now."

"Right. I should've caught that one." I muttered to myself. Alice was always making those comments with hidden-meanings. "Where do you need me?"

"Do you want to just grab the alcohol from my fridge and stock the coolers? I'll have Eric move them where they need to go when he gets back."

"Sure. Is he on a snack run?"

"Yeah."

"Sweet. I'll get to it."

I went upstairs to Alice's apartment, where there were about ten coolers of various sizes sitting on her kitchen floor. Her refrigerator and freezer were completely devoid of food: they were packed to capacity with beer and hard liquor. Eric's refrigerator would look much the same. Alice and Eric were always the ones who stored the goods.

After I had finished filling more than half of the coolers with all the contents of Alice's fridge, I headed back downstairs towing the empty ones. I brought those down two at a time, since they were light, and brought them into Eric's apartment to fill them. When I finished and came back into the hallway, Alice was setting up the fog machine in the back corner.

"The lawn looks great."

She grinned widely. "Thanks. I worked on it all morning."

Alice and I worked in concert and relative silence, having only short spurts of conversation here and there. When Eric got back, she gave him the task of putting all the coolers where she wanted them and to set up the drink tables in all the apartments.

"Is Edward coming?" Alice asked while I was helping her set up the speakers in the hallway.

"I ran into him before I left, and told him if he didn't show up, I'd shove my foot up his ass."

"Are those exact words? I expect more profanities from you."

"I may be paraphrasing."

We finished up just before seven o'clock. The party was set to start at nine, so Alice and I went upstairs to her apartment to begin getting ready.

"Nice for Lauren and Jess to help out, huh?" I said sarcastically.

"They helped me put the flood lights in this morning, for all of five minutes. And then they bailed." She shook her head. "I can't stand those girls."

"I second that." I rolled my eyes. "Where are Carmen and Eleazar?"

"Carm's sister had a baby last weekend. They flew back to San Francisco last night to go visit. They gave me the key to their place, though. They said it was okay if I used it."

"Awesome."

Alice opened her closet door and pulled out two bags from the Halloween store. "Here." She handed me one of them.

I took off my clothes and pulled on my costume. It was a long sleeved red and green striped sweater dress that just touched the top of my thighs, and barely covered my ass. The bottom of the sleeves and the hem were frayed haphazardly, and there were three slits across the abdomen, showing slivers of my skin. Alice curled my hair into thick spirals, and pinned the ugly gray fedora into it at a tilt. Then it was time for those dreaded boots.

Of course, Alice had to choose the most ridiculous boots for me to wear. They were leather, thigh high, and super tight. They tied like a corset in the back from my ankle up, exposing the skin on the back of my legs. The worst part wasn't being so exposed. I had no problem with showing off some skin. The problem was that they were _so_ high. The five-inch heel was not much thicker than a Bic pen, and the balls of my feet were on a platform. As soon as I got them on, I was wobbling.

"Nut up, Bella. You wear stilettos all the time."

"Yeah, but not this high. I feel like Andre the Giant."

"I don't even know who that is." I looked down at her and rolled my eyes. "Beauty is painful, bitch. And you look hot, so quit your complaining."

"Fine." I imagined I was tall enough to step on her, and smiled.

Alice got into her costume; she was Wednesday Addams from the Addam's Family. She looked the part to a T. She had on a short black skirt over a pair of black and white striped tights. The top was short and black, and showed off her belly. The cuffs of the long sleeve shirt were white, as was the collar that dipped low and exposed some cleavage.

"Alice, your tits look huge."

She smiled slyly. "Wonder bra."

She topped the outfit off with a black pigtailed wig, and a pair of very high Mary Jane's. Alice was a lot more adept at walking in heels than I was. After we were both in our costumes, Alice started in on doing our makeup

"Do you think you could do my makeup to look like I have burns on my face?"

She gaped, and paused with the eye shadow brush in her hand. "Why?"

"Because I'm Freddy Krueger." I said matter-of-factly.

She was suddenly furious. "Bella, the point is to look sexy, not like a burn victim!"

"It's Halloween, Alice, I thought the point was to look scary."

"No. Absolutely not. I will do your makeup, but only to make you look gorgeous. None of your macabre tendencies allowed."

I laughed, and she continued doing my makeup with a scowl on her face.

We were both in costume, dolled up, and ready to take on the world and all it's booze when 9 o'clock rolled around. Like clockwork, people started coming in hoards, and by 9:45, the place was packed. The party was already in full swing: the fog machine was on, the music was bumping, and everyone was dancing with a drink in their hand. I was three drinks in, and standing at the top of the stairs talking to a guy named Ben, who was dressed as Superman and explaining to me the contrasts between the comics and movies. Angela, his girlfriend who lived in my building, was standing next to him dressed as Wonder Woman with a horrified, apologetic look on her face.

You know how in those 80's movies, when the crush walks in, a spotlight appears, cheesy music starts to play, and a mysterious breeze appears to ruffle their hair? Yeah, none of that happened. It was just this visceral feeling I got in the pit of my chest, compelling me to turn my head toward the door at the right moment. And there he was; Edward Cullen. My heart skipped a beat.

He was dressed in an all-black suit with the jacket unbuttoned. Underneath his jacket, he wore a jade green button up with a thin black tie, and I could see black suspenders peeking out every time he shifted. A black fedora sat on top of his gorgeous bronze hair, and a thin ribbon the same color as his shirt wrapped around it. There was an unlit cigar hanging out of his perfect lips, and he was smiling, his eyes scanning the room.

"Excuse me." I said to Ben and Angela, without looking at them, and made my way down the stairs toward him.

Somehow, he spotted me as soon as I started moving, and he took the cigar out of his mouth, the most beautiful crooked smile spreading across his face. I was sure my face mirrored his as I pushed past people down the stairs, not watching where I was going, just watching him. It was a miracle that I didn't fall to my death. I didn't know where this sudden _need_ to be near him came from, but I was useless against it.

Finally, I got to him, and I stood in front of him, staring into his face. The green of his shirt brought out the intense emerald of his eyes, and I was swimming in them.

"You're tall." He said with a smirk.

I realized I barely had to look up to meet his eyes. "Deathtraps, remember." I said, pointing at my feet.

He nodded, and looked down, taking the opportunity to look me up and down. "You look gorgeous. Definitely worth the wait." He smiled at me. "You make a great Freddy. Although, if Freddy looked nearly as good as you do, I don't think those people would have been so opposed to falling asleep."

I blushed. "Thanks. You look so handsome. Very Godfather."

"Yeah, we decided to be the mafia tonight." He said, gesturing to his brothers, who I hadn't even noticed.

Emmett and Jasper were dressed similarly to Edward, except Jasper's shirt was blue and Emmett's was red. Emmett had his arm around a buxom, leggy blonde dressed in a red flapper dress. Her hair fell around her shoulders in perfect pin curls, a thin silver headband slung across her forehead with a red feather sticking out. Her perfect lips were a bright, ruby red. She looked as if she had just stepped out of the 50's.

"Hey Bella, where-" Jasper started.

"Upstairs, apartment to the right." I answered him with a smirk.

He smiled at me and made his way to the stairs to find Alice.

"Nice to see you again, Bella." Emmett said. "This is my cunt- I mean my wife, Rosalie."

"Asshole." I said at the same time Rosalie was saying "Dickhead." We looked at each other and laughed.

Edward nudged Emmett and stage whispered, "It must be like looking in a mirror." We both glared at them.

Rosalie looked at me. "And they wonder why I'm so much of a bitch, when I have to deal with them all the time."

"You know what their problem is? They can't take a woman who can give back the bullshit as good as they get. It's hard to feel manly when you're getting put in your place by a woman."

"If we had penises, it'd be a whole different story."

"If we had penises, they'd want to kick our asses instead of wanting to fuck us. We're walking, talking hits to their egos."

Rosalie smiled and looked at Edward. "I love this girl." She turned back to me. "Can I take you home with me?"

I laughed. "I think you might have to get me a little more drunk for that."

"Speaking of getting drunk…" Emmett started.

"There are coolers everywhere. Walk two feet, and you're bound to spot one of them." I told him.

Emmett put a hand on Rosalie's waist. "Time to get hammered, Rosie."

"We'll talk later." Rosalie called to me over her shoulder.

"Maybe do more than talk, if I'm wasted enough." I called back. She laughed.

"Wow." Edward said, looking at me with an amused smile.

"What?"

"Nothing." I poked him in the stomach with one of the blades on my glove.

"Ow." He rubbed the spot exaggeratedly.

"Stop being such a baby. It's plastic."

"I may have to confiscate that glove if you get too drunk."

"Then it's definitely going to get confiscated, because I plan on getting _very_ drunk. Speaking of which, I need a refill."

I towed Edward through the crowd to the cooler in the corner of the hallway, and poured more vodka into my red cup. After I finished downing my drink, we wandered through the house, and I introduced him to a lot of people. It turned out Edward knew my friends Jacob and Seth. They worked for Edward and Rosalie. Not _with_ them, _for_ them. Edward and Rosalie co-owned the auto body shop where Jake and Seth worked as mechanics. That was a double shock for me; Edward owned a business, and the gorgeous Rosalie was a mechanic.

I don't know what it was; the booze in my system, the dim lights, the loud music, the intoxication of Edward's presence, or a combination of everything, but I threw my inhibitions to the wind that night and just allowed myself to have fun. I quickly realized how much I loved spending time with him. When we weren't talking, he would just shoot me a facial expression that would have me cracking up. I was giddy from the booze, and just from being with him, and he made me laugh to no end. There was never a dull moment.

As we bobbed and weaved through the party, Edward's hand found mine to keep from losing me, and I didn't pull it away. Our hands stayed locked together, my fingers laced through his, even when we weren't moving. If we were standing, or sitting, or talking with other people, his hand stayed clasped in mine. It felt good. Right.

As I got drunker, I got clumsier. Edward held me up when I stumbled over something, my own two feet, or the air. We were never apart for more than a few minutes at a time the entire night. I left his side once to use the bathroom, and when I came out, Lauren and Jessica had him cornered. As soon as he saw me walking toward him, he deftly excused himself and came to my side, taking my hand. I shot Lauren and Jess a smug look when we passed.

We saw Alice and Jasper throughout the night. They were always together, standing or sitting close to each other. Sometimes he had his arm around her, but most of the time, they weren't even touching. They'd just be talking to each other and staring into each other's eyes in a way that seemed so intimate. I'd never seen Alice look so happy.

Edward's sister-in-law was a crack up. Every time we ran into her and Emmett, Rosalie would shout, "Drunk enough yet, Bella?" and I'd answer with "Getting there!" At one point, she snuck up next to me and planted a huge kiss on my cheek. Edward had to help me scrub off the lipstick mark.

Eventually, we ended up in Alice's apartment, which had morphed into a four-room dance floor. Edward pulled me close to him when we danced, and I didn't let myself ice up and start feeling uncomfortable from how easy it was to be close to him. I was feeling things I'd never felt before. I was feeling at all, _really feeling_ for the first time in so long. And for now, I didn't want to question it. I just let myself be. I would deal with the consequences later.

At two in the morning, the party was finally starting to wind down, and I was so drunk I could barely see straight. Edward and I were sitting on the front porch smoking. His arm was wrapped around me, and I was leaning into his side, my head on his shoulder.

"Did you have fun?" I asked.

"Yeah, you were right, Alice does throw a good party. Did you?"

I nodded. "I'm really glad you came."

"Me too." He tightened his arm around me. "You probably would've broken an ankle or impaled someone with those claws if I hadn't been here to watch you."

I poked him roughly in the thigh with one of my blades. "I'm not that helpless."

"Now you're getting violent. Hand it over, you're losing your serial killer privileges. You're too drunk to be wielding a deadly weapon, anyways."

I laughed and pulled off the glove. "God forbid I scratch someone with the fucking dull plastic." I gasped exaggeratedly. "I may even break the skin." I handed the glove to him.

He folded four of the fingers over, and held the middle one up toward me. I punched him in the thigh and took a drag of my cigarette.

"I didn't just mean tonight." I said after a few seconds.

"What's that?" He asked.

"I didn't just mean I was glad you came tonight. I'm glad I met you." I snubbed my cig out on the step and threw it into the street.

"I'm glad I met you too, Bella." He laughed. "But I think you're smashed."

I leaned my head into his chest and closed my eyes. "I'm tired."

He wrapped both arms around me, hugging me close. "Do you want to go home?"

I nodded into his chest. He gave me a squeeze, and then let me go, standing up. I looked up at him, and he held his hand out to me. I took it, and we headed inside.

When we got up to Alice's, the only ones left in her apartment were Edward's brothers and Rosalie. Jasper was sitting on the couch with his arm around Alice, and they were talking quietly to each other. Rosalie was passed out against Emmett's chest on the loveseat, and Emmett wasn't too far behind her.

"We're taking off." Edward said quietly. "I think this one needs to sleep it off."

I glared at him. "I'm fine. I just need sleep, period."

"Make sure she gets home safe." Alice said worriedly. I rolled my eyes at her.

"I will. Jazz, are you guys crashing here?" Edward asked.

Jasper looked at Alice, and she sighed. "You might as well. Those two don't look like they're moving anytime soon."

"Have a fun slumber party." I threw at her.

"Maybe you will, too." She shot back, grinning.

I lifted my free hand and flipped her off.

"Get the fuck out of my house, bitch."

"I will, as soon as I get my shit, cunt."

I shot her a smile and then turned to walk to her bedroom. I looked back at Edward when he started following, but didn't say anything. I got my jacket and my bag out of Alice's closet, and put the bag on the bed while I pulled my jacket on. I paused with my hand on the bag's handle. I sat down on the bed and unzipped it.

"What?"

"There's no way I'll make it walking the streets of New York in these ridiculous torture devices." I said, pulling my black Chuck's out of the bag.

I bent to unzip my boots, but my clumsy, inebriated fingers struggled with the zipper. Edward crouched down to help me, and I may have imagined the way his fingers lingered at my thighs. He got them undone and pulled them off of my legs. I rolled my ankles and flexed my toes, sighing at the sensation. When I put on my Chuck's and stood up, it felt odd to be on flat ground. I felt so short standing next to Edward now.

"I feel like I just got down from stilts."

I stuffed the boots into the bag with my clothes from earlier and zipped it. I went to grab it, but Edward was quicker, and he slung it over his shoulder, grabbing my hand. We said goodbye to Jasper and Alice, and the handful of people still lingering around in the hallway. Edward supported most of my weight while we walked. On the subway, I slouched against him and closed my eyes, nodding off against his chest. I was so cozy, wrapped in his arms, that I was close to sleep when the train pulled up to our stop. I stumbled out on to the platform with Edward's arm firmly at my waist.

The cool air hitting my face when we reached street level jolted me into consciousness. I was more alert as we walked those two blocks to our building than I had been when we left Alice's. I was shivering by the time we got through the front door. Edward held me in the elevator, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to warm me.

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, and he walked me to my door. He held my bag out to me.

"Can you handle this?"

I rolled my eyes and snatched it. "I think I can manage."

He furrowed his eyebrows and smiled down at me. "See you later, Bella."

Edward turned away from me and walked to his door, and I turned to face my own. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, not even having taken my keys out of my bag yet. It was like I was frozen there, because I was suddenly overcome with the insane yearning to not be alone. Tonight was raw, and freeing, and beautiful, and fun. It was the first time I'd ever felt like that, and I didn't want it to end. Not only did I not want to be alone, but I wanted to be with _him_. Edward. Only Edward.

I let go of the knob and whipped around to see him. He was just opening his door and was halfway over the threshold.

"Edward?" I called out unthinkingly.

He stopped and turned around to face me, the most beautiful crooked smile on his angel's face. I couldn't take it anymore.

The feelings he invoked in me were all coming crashing down at once. The tension, and the contradicting lightness that I felt when I was near him. The nerves, the stomach flips… they all boiled over and combined with the alcohol pulsing through my system to create one emotion, stronger than I had ever felt: desire. I wanted him. I didn't want to see him disappear behind that door. I didn't want to be apart from him.

I crossed the hall in three long strides, and then I was standing right in front of him. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced his face down, closer to mine. He looked at me in surprise.

"Please, Edward." I whispered.

His brows furrowed, and those scorching green eyes were boring into mine. I wrapped my other arm around his neck, fisting that beautiful hair in my hand and knocking the hat off his head, and pulled his mouth to mine. His lips were unresponsive, hesitant at first, but I felt it the moment he gave in.

His body completely relaxed and melted into mine. His arms wrapped around my waist tightly, pulling my body to meet every inch of his. His lips became just as fierce and urgent as mine as we learned the shape, the taste of each other. His fingers gently kneaded my hips. I released his shirt from my hand and brought it up to join my other hand in his hair, pulling his face more securely to my own: I couldn't get close enough.

My tongue slipped out and flicked along his bottom lip. He moaned and opened his mouth to allow me access. Our tongues danced along each other, beginning a languid battle for dominance. I took my hands out of his hair and brought them down to his chest, pushing him backward.

At first, he must've thought I was trying to push him away, because he broke the kiss and pulled back to look down at me. I bit my lip and, never taking my eyes from his, pushed my way past him into his apartment. He followed me in, closing the door behind him, and then I was pressed up against the wall, his lips on mine. The strap slipped off my shoulder, and the bag I had all but forgotten drooped to the floor. I pushed against Edward again, not allowing him to break the kiss this time, until his legs hit the couch. He fell backwards, pulling me with him, and scooted so that his head was against the armrest. I sat up, moving one leg to either side of his hips, straddling him.

His gentle hands traced a path up and down my body, feeling his way over my thighs, my ass, hips, my ribs, the sides of my breasts, and down again. His touch was like an electric jolt to the center of my body, and I felt like I would come just from the feeling of his hands on me.

Only the thin fabric of my panties and his jeans separated our bodies from each other. I lowered myself to rest right on the fly of his jeans and ground myself against him. I could feel his hard cock throbbing as I created a friction between us, and I picked up a faster, steady rhythm. His hips bucked, and we shared a moan.

I was surprised to feel a small, smooth ball tracing against my tongue. I pulled away slightly.

"You have your tongue pierced?" I mumbled against his lips.

"Mm." He assented. I moaned hungrily into his mouth.

My hands slipped down across his neck, to his chest, and I started undoing the buttons on his shirt. I had gotten all of the buttons undone, and was moving down to undo his pants, when his hands were suddenly on mine, stopping me. His lips were still, even as mine continued to move against his eagerly. I pulled back, perplexed. He was staring back at me, his eyes wild and dark with lust, his heavy breathing in sync with my own.

"Bella, c-can we just… just slow down for a minute?" He gasped.

"Why?" I asked, leaning down to nip at his Adam's apple.

He laughed nervously and pulled my face up to meet his eyes. "Because you're very, very drunk, and I don't want you to do something you'll regret in the morning."

"Well, whether or not I'll regret it is really up to you, isn't it?" I was surprised at how bold I was being. If it wasn't for the booze, there was no way I'd be this forward.

I dipped my head to kiss his glorious exposed chest. He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back. I was starting to get really annoyed with him. I was letting go of all my defenses for this one night, and _he_ was pushing _me_ away now.

"I think we should just stop, Bella."

"Do you now?" I said scathingly, and rocked my hips against his still erect cock. His eyes bugged. "It seems like that body of yours has other ideas."

"Yeah, well, I can't help the fact that my body… reacts… to you." He sat up, but I was still straddling his lap.

"Don't _try_ to help it, then. Just go with it." I put my hands on his jaw and pulled his lips to mine again, and for a few seconds, he let himself return the kiss.

When he pulled away, it was abrupt. He narrowed his eyes at me, and pushed me off of his lap. "I'm going to make some coffee to sober you up."

He got up and stalked toward the kitchen, disappearing behind the corner.

"Fucking asshole." I mumbled, and stretched out on the couch. I pulled one of the throw pillows under my head and closed my eyes. I was horny, and drunk, and now extremely sexually frustrated. But the 'drunk' part won the battle, and I was out like a light in seconds.

*****

**Links to Bella and Alice's costumes in my profile!**

**Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks so much for the reviews. I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, I would be very rich. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*

**EPOV**

I came back into the living room with two mugs of coffee in my hands, to find Bella lying on her side, stretched out across my couch, with her eyes closed.

"Bella?" I said quietly.

She didn't answer. She was fast asleep. I smiled and shook my head, and I stood there for a few minutes, just watching her. She was so beautiful.

Looking at Bella while she slept was perplexing. It was like seeing a side of her I never knew existed. Her face was relaxed and soft, her hair forming a dark frame around her delicate, pale face. Her lips were slightly parted and turned up at the corners in a sleepy smile. Her breath came long, deep, and even. She looked peaceful.

It was the complete opposite of how she had been not ten minutes earlier. She'd been so hasty and wound up, and determined to get what she wanted. When she kissed me, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't resist her. She was feverish and urgent, and the feeling that she needed me, made me need her just as much. But she was getting carried away, and as hard as it was for me to do so, I pulled away.

It wasn't that I didn't want her. The one thing I _did_ know for sure was that I wanted her. Fuck, it seemed like ever since I moved into this building, everything I did was slowly beginning to revolve around Bella. But if I had let things keep going, she would hate me in the morning. I was positive about that. When she regained her composure, she'd push me away, with a grudge this time, and I'd lose any chance of ever knowing her. I couldn't risk that. There was so much more to learn about her.

Even now, as I watched her sleeping, I was learning her.

Bella had shown me a brand new side of herself tonight, drunk as she was. She was still the same funny, quirky, blunt woman that I had come to know, but she was unbound. It was the first time I had felt like she wasn't trying to control herself. There was always this tension to her, the way she carried herself, that made it seem like every move she made was with caution. She had slips, like when she let me hold her outside of the bar, and when she sat close to me while we watched the movie. But once she came aware of what she was doing, she tensed up and pulled away. Every time. Until tonight.

She was unreserved. She held my hand in hers all night and never pulled away. If my grip on her hand started to loosen, she'd tighten her fingers around mine. I held her close, and not only did she let me, but she held me back just as tight. She leaned into me and laid her head on my shoulder without hesitation, and being next to her was unlike any sensation I'd ever felt.

I noticed that the short dress had ridden up her thigh, and a thin sliver of ivory lace was peeking out. I reached over and pulled down the hem of her dress to cover her, my hand brushing against her soft skin. I took her shoes off her feet and went into my bedroom to pull the comforter off my bed to put over her. I replaced the decorative pillow her head was resting on with a real one. I tried to take the hat off her head, but I quickly found out it was pinned there. Trying my best not to pull her hair, I took the pins out one by one and put the hat on the coffee table upside down, throwing the pins inside of it. I brushed a lock of hair from her face, and went to get ready for bed.

As I changed my clothes, I contemplated the strange effect that Bella had on me. I knew it was unhealthy; when you're recovering from being addicted to drugs, you sometimes find yourself substituting the drug obsession with an obsession of some other kind. You find other things to fixate on. The first time I came out of rehab, my replacements were fixing cars and playing the piano. Bella was my drug now. _How fucked up is that?_

I turned off the lights in my apartment, peeked in on Bella one last time, then climbed into bed. I laid awake for what seemed like hours, but I couldn't get anywhere near sleep. I tossed and turned, and through the darkness, my eyes fixed on the back of the couch. I couldn't stop my mind from turning the events of tonight over and over. She was so different, unhinged, but I didn't trust it to last. I didn't want to think too much of it, convince myself that she was starting to feel comfortable with me. I knew that alcohol was the biggest factor in how she acted with me tonight.

I thought over the same conversation in my head that I had been replaying for the last week. The conversation I had with Alice at the bar, when Bella and Jasper left us alone at the table.

"_Alice, can I ask you a question?"_

"_Sure." She leaned forward eagerly._

"_Does she… does she have a boyfriend?"_

_Her eyebrows shot up. "Bella? No."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_If Bella had a boyfriend, _trust me_, I would know." The look on her face confused me. "Why do you ask?"_

_I shook my head nonchalantly. "No reason, just wondering. What about you? Are you dating anyone?"_

_Alice raised a dainty eyebrow and smirked. "Don't pretend to be all casually curious. I know why you asked. I mean, you haven't taken your eyes off her all night."_

_I looked down at the table, mortified. Was I really being that obvious?_

"_I can't quite put my finger on it," Alice started, "but there's something about you, Edward. I like you, and I think you'd be a really good thing for Bella." She crossed her skinny arms over her chest and looked own. "Not that she'd let you." She mumbled._

"_What do you mean by that?"_

_She looked up at me, eyes widening in surprise. "Fuck, Bella is right. I don't know the meaning of quiet." She pouted. "Me and my drunken disorderly word vomits. I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut."_

_I leaned across the table toward her. "Tell me what you meant, Alice."_

_She sighed. "Fine. Okay. It's just that, Bella… she doesn't date."_

"_Why not?"_

"_She doesn't like to… depend… on people. Nobody but herself."_

"_She depends on you." I pointed out._

_She shook her head. "No. She _trusts_ me, and _relies_ on me, which is also a rarity for her. But there's a difference." She paused. "Look, I love Bella like a sister, and she loves me, and… if I were to disappear tomorrow, sure, she'd miss me. But everything in her life would still operate the same way. That's how Bella is. That's how she likes it to be. Her only essential is herself."_

"_That's… sad. It's kind of cold." I said, surprised._

"_It may seem that way to you, but…" She paused, seeming to struggle with what she would tell me. "It's not my place to speak for her. It's her choice whether or not she wants you to know some things or not. But what I will tell you is, she has her reasons for being the way she is. I'll leave it at that."_

It seemed so ironic. The reason I had left home was because I was trying to find myself and learn how not to depend on anything or anyone. And here, I'd met this beautiful girl who had it down to a science. I was completely consumed by her, and all I wanted was to get her to open up.

*

As soon as I woke up in the morning, I had the impulse to check on Bella. I stood up, stretched, and walked over to the back of the couch. She was still sound asleep, the covers pulled up to her chin, her hair wild and obscuring her beautiful face. She was lying on her side with her back to me, and most of her hair was pulled forward and away from her neck. I could see a tiny bit of ink peeking out, and I gently moved the remaining strands of hair away from the nape of her neck. There, written in elegant script, was a quote:

_Old as she was,_

_she still missed her Daddy sometimes._

I was taken back by the simplicity and beauty of the words on her neck. It seemed almost out of place, to be written on the Bella that I saw everyday. It was soft and poignant, and I thought that it must reflect the way she is on the inside, the part of her that she doesn't show. Underneath the hard, tough exterior, Bella was sad, sweet, and vulnerable. She was still a little girl who missed her Daddy.

I went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and make some breakfast. I was frying up some eggs when I heard movement coming from the living room, followed by a yawn. Then her footsteps were scrambling and the bathroom door slammed shut. Concerned, I went to the door to check on her. I heard her heaving and knocked.

"Bella, are you okay?"

"Marvelous." She croaked. Her voice was hoarse.

"Do you need anything?"

"Do you have Tylenol?"

"Yeah, in the medicine cabinet." I heard the cabinet door opening. "Anything else?"

"No. Just go away." She sounded irritated, and I didn't want to push her.

"Okay. Just yell if you need me."

She grunted in what I thought must have been an assent, and then I went back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came in and plopped down in a chair. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, and the bags under her eyes were alarming. She folded her arms on the counter and rested her head on them.

"If you're really my friend, you'll fucking kill me right now."

"No, it's too fun to watch you suffer. Breakfast?"

She made a gagging noise. "I can't even think about food right now."

"Bella, you need to eat."

"Unless you want to be cleaning puke off your kitchen floor, you'll stop pushing the issue."

"If that happens, you're cleaning it up." She just groaned without lifting her head. "How about coffee?"

"Yes. Coffee would be fantastic."

I turned and pulled two mugs from the cabinet. "How do you take it?"

"Soy milk, two Splenda."

"Ah," I scratched the back of my head. "I'm fresh out of both."

"I'm sure you usually have both of those in bulk, right?" She raised her head slightly to look at me, and her lips were pulled into a tired smile. Even hungover, she couldn't resist the sarcasm. "Cream and sugar is fine."

I made both of our coffees, and set hers in front of her. She immediately picked it up, closed her eyes, and took a long sip. I sat down beside her. We drank our coffee in silence for a few minutes, while I racked my brain for a way to approach what we needed to talk about. Just as I was opening my mouth to start, Bella stood up.

"I need a smoke."

"Yeah, me too." I stood up and followed her into the main room.

She paused for a second, looking around her. She looked back at me, brows knit together.

"My bag?"

I pointed over to the side of the couch, where I had put all of her things last night. She put on her shoes and jacket, and an unfamiliar clenching formed in my chest when she reached for her bag. I didn't want her to leave yet. My brain kicked into overdrive while I tried to find something to say to make her stay. Then, instead of picking her bag up, she crouched down and unzipped it. She pulled out her pack of cigarettes and straightened. With a sense of relief, I crossed the room and opened the window to the fire escape. Bella sat beside me, and I lit her cigarette before lighting my own.

"How much do you remember about last night?" I asked quietly after a few minutes.

Her eyes widened and she looked down into the parking lot. "I don't know. Bits and pieces. I remember being at the party. I know you were with me all night." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Everything is kind of convoluted." She shook her head and opened her eyes. "We took the subway home. Though I feel more like I got ran over by it than rode it." I smirked. She bit her lip and looked away. "Everything after that is… clearer."

"I think we should talk about it, Bella."

She threw the butt of her cigarette through a gap in the railing, and stood up abruptly. "I can't right now, Edward." Her voice was high and nervous. She stepped through the window, back into my apartment.

I threw my cig and followed her. "Right now is as good a time as any."

"No. I have to go. I have to feed Paul, and… I just have to go." She picked up her bag.

"Paul?" That fucking name again. _Who the hell is this Paul?_

"Yeah. Paul, my cat." She said dismissively.

"Oh." I felt like such an idiot. The last two and a half weeks, I'd been stressing out about this 'Paul', thinking it was Bella's secret boyfriend. It was a fucking cat. "Bella, I think your cat can wait."

"No, he can't. He's an impatient bastard. Plus, I need to shower. I feel gross. We can talk later, okay? Or tomorrow…" _Or never_, I half expected her to say. Knowing her, she was probably thinking it.

I walked her to the door, and stood in my doorway while she unlocked hers. When she had it open, she paused, and turned her head to look over her shoulder at me.

"Thanks for taking care of me… putting up with me last night, Edward. Sorry I was such a pain in the ass."

I smiled. "You're a fun pain in the ass, at least."

"Oh yeah." She rolled her eyes, and then the door took her out of my sight.

*

I didn't see Bella for the rest of the day. Monday morning, I was determined to talk to her. This wasn't just something that we could let slip away without discussing it.

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. No movement. I knocked again. Nothing. _She must not be home_. Irritated, I turned to go back into my apartment, when the elevator down the hall chimed. I paused and waited eagerly to see who got off. A short little pixie with inky black hair came dancing through the steel doors. Her smile wavered minutely when she saw me, but then it picked up again and she skipped toward me.

"Hey Edward."

"Hi Alice. Do you know where Bella is?"

"Yeah. She's on her way here." She pulled out a key and turned to the door.

"You have a key to her apartment?"

"Of course."

That threw me for a loop. Another facet of Bella that had me completely confused. She was so guarded and shielded, yet she gave Alice a key to her apartment? There was a trust, a strange sort of bond between the two girls that I didn't fully understand. Like they had a secret they were hiding from the world.

Alice unlocked the door, then turned back to me. "I'd invite you in, but Bella has this aversion to letting people into her apartment."

"Yeah, Bella seems to have aversions to a lot of things."

"Lay off." Her voice was sharp. "There are things about her you can't even begin to understand."

"Maybe I could, if she'd let me." I glowered at her.

She dropped her glare. Her lips pursed, and a small crease formed between her eyebrows. The elevator chimed again, and the doors slipped open. I whipped my head toward the sound.

Bella stepped off the elevator, looking down at the phone in her hands. She glanced up quickly, then back down, and up again with more awareness. Her stride faltered for a second. She shook her head almost imperceptibly, as if to clear it, then continued walking toward us.

"Hey, Alice. Edward." She turned to Alice. "Can you give us a minute?"

Alice pivoted on one foot and walked into Bella's apartment. "Little P, look what Auntie Alice brought you!" I could hear her yelling.

Bella leaned into the doorway. "Alice, if you give him catnip, so help me God, I will pound your tiny face in!"

"Relax, Bella. He's coming home with me, remember?"

"Good. Maybe you'll learn your lesson when you have to deal with him bouncing off the walls at all hours of the night." She sighed and looked over at me. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Uh, why is Alice taking your cat?"

She looked away, avoiding my eyes. "I'm going away for a few days."

I gaped. "Away? Where?"

"Just out of town. There are some things I have to do."

"Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "Everything's fine. No crisis or anything, just…" She trailed off, shaking her head.

"Oh." I ran a hand through my hair. "When are you leaving?"

"In an hour or so."

"Um, wow. I was hoping we could talk, but… so, when are you coming back?"

"Thursday night, at the latest." She bit her lip and became very interested in the stitching on the hem of her shirt. "We'll talk when I get back, okay?"

"I guess so." She turned to go into her apartment. I reached out for her arm, and she looked back at me. "Hey, this isn't about what happened with us, right?"

"No. It has nothing to do with that." The tense look on her face told me that it had _everything_ to do with that. She deftly pulled her arm from my hand. I let it slip away. "I have to go. I'll see you in a few days."

She went quickly into her apartment and all but slammed the door in my face. A feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach.

*

**BPOV**

Sunday afternoon, after I made a speedy exit from Edward's and got myself ready for the day, I took the subway over to Alice's. I needed to talk to her, badly.

I used my key to get into Alice's apartment, after making my way through the spotless hallway. All of the furniture in the living room was pushed back into its original places. You would never know there had been a wild party here last night. Alice was a miracle worker.

"Alice?" I called. Nothing. "Al?" I made my way through the house and stopped at the kitchen.

Alice was standing at the counter with her back toward me, wiggling her hips to the music from her headphones while fixing a cup of something. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she whipped around, startled. A smile spread across her face and she pulled the buds from her ears.

"Bella. I didn't hear you come in."

"I know. Are you alone? I mean, Jasper and them…" I could hear the bleakness in my own voice.

Her smile faltered, and worry creased her forehead. "They left hours ago. Bella, what's going on?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Alice nodded. "Go sit on the couch. I'll make you a cup of tea." I did as she said, and a few minutes later, she sat down beside me on the couch. "What's wrong?"

I toyed with the handle on my mug. "Something happened last night. And I don't know what to do about it."

"Okay. Tell me."

"I... well, we got home and we were in the hallway. I was about to go into my apartment, but then… I don't know what came over me. I just walked right over and kissed him."

Her eyes widened. "Edward? You kissed Edward?"

"Yeah."

"Bella, I don't… even know what to say. Um, that's _so_ not like you."

"I know!" I put the mug down on the coffee table, and leaned my elbows on my knees, burying my head in my hands. "Then, before I knew it, I was on top of him on his couch and we were making out. His hands felt so good all over me, Alice. And then, I was unbuttoning his shirt…"

"Whoa. Hold the phone. Bella, did you have sex with him?"

I shook my head in my hands, staring at the floor. "No. I tried to. I was practically dry humping the poor guy. He stopped it before we went too far." I laughed humorlessly and lifted my head. "He literally had to push me off of him. Like I was some skank who couldn't take a hint." I threw myself back against the cushions, covering my face. "God, what the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Have you seen him since last night?"

"Well, yeah, when I woke up obviously. He wanted to talk about it, but I said I had to feed Paul and bailed."

"You slept at his place?" She asked incredulously.

I nodded. "I fell asleep after Skankfest 09."

"You're not a skank, Bella." She said softly.

I shook my head. "I just don't know what to do."

"How do you feel about kissing him? How did you feel last night?"

I smiled slightly, remembering. "I had so much fun with him last night. He looked out for me, and took care of me. He makes me laugh, and… I don't know. I guess I actually felt _happy_." I bit my lip. "It's easy for me to be around him, and that scares me." I said quietly.

"Maybe this isn't such a bad thing, Bella."

I sighed. "I don't know what it is. My head is a complete jumbled mess right now." I looked at her. "I think I'm going to go away for a few days."

She gaped. "You're leaving? Why?"

"I just need to get away. I need sometime alone, just to think." _I feel like I don't know myself anymore_, I wanted to say. But I didn't want to worry Alice more than necessary.

"Where will you go?"

"The Hamptons."

"But it's November."

"I know. Look, could you just take Paul while I'm gone? It will only be two or three days."

"Of course. When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

*

I called the agency to tell them I wouldn't be taking any clients this week, and Monday afternoon, Chevy and I were on the road to the Hamptons. It was the off-season, so it would be quiet and not crowded, which was great. I stayed at a little inn close to the beach.

I knew if I had stayed home, I wouldn't have been able to think this through properly. There was always the high possibility of running into Edward, and it would be hard to put things in perspective with the foreign feelings pumping, palpable, through my veins. It was better to be far enough away from him that my mind wouldn't be clouded.

Tuesday was dreary and overcast, so I decided to go for a walk on the beach. The way the sky made the waves look an ominous shade of dark gray, and the misty rain spraying my face, reminded me of being in Forks. My father used to take me down to La Push beach all the time when I was visiting him, and the unconventional beauty of the bluish gray water always made me feel a sense of serenity. I imagined the sandy shore replaced with rocks and sticks, and strewn with bleached white driftwood benches. I sat on the sand and stared out at the waves. The familiarity and solitude of the deserted beach made it easy to clear my head, and begin to sort out this thing with Edward.

First, I had to make sense of my feelings for him. That was the hardest part. How could I even begin to make sense of something I'd never felt before?

I decided to break it down. I knew that I was physically attracted to him: that much was as clear as day. And I knew that my body had physically reactions to his presence. When I was around him, my heart would start to race, my breath kicked up a notch, and my hands trembled. I was even more nervous and awkward than usual. Seeing him smile put a smile on my face, and he could make me laugh like no one ever had before. But what did all that translate into, emotion wise? I had no idea.

I had known Edward for less than a month, and already he was making me question everything I thought I knew about myself. I'd known myself to be strong and unmoving, tenacious and guarded. I needed no one but myself to get by, and that was more than fine with me. It was what I wanted. But near Edward, I felt vulnerable. I felt ethereal and light, like there was no gravity holding me on the ground. It wasn't a completely unwelcome feeling, until I came down. When I wasn't with him anymore, the fall back down to the ground was rough.

I didn't know exactly what it was, but whatever I felt for him, it was dangerous for me.

Now, I had to figure out what to do about it.

I'd spent way too many years building up my defenses to lose it all over a guy I barely even knew. My life may not be the happiest, most exciting one, but it worked. I was independent, and that was all I had ever really wanted since my father died. I didn't date because from what I knew, to be with someone, there was a sense of dependability. I'm sure there were ways to keep your independence and be in a relationship, but I also knew that being with someone meant they became a factor in every big choice you made in your life. That wasn't desirable to me. Pursuing this wasn't an option.

But I knew that forgetting about Edward altogether wasn't an option either. The only thing that scared me more than my feelings for him was the prospect of not having him in my life at all.

I stood up from the ground and brushed the sand off the back of my pants. It was starting to get dark, and the temperature was dropping, and my decision was already made. I would be Edward's friend, no more, no less. I would get a good night's sleep tonight, and be back on the road to Brooklyn tomorrow.

*

I got home late Wednesday afternoon. I was going to Alice's to pick up Paul later on that night, but there was something I had to do first. Taking a deep breath, I walked determinedly out of my apartment and to his door. I knocked loudly.

Footsteps started out quiet and got louder as they came closer to the door, mirroring the steady rising of the beating in my chest. The door opened, and my eyes raked over him of their own volition. Starting from his socked feet, up over his dark jeans, to the black belt with the big silver buckle that I had to pry my eyes away from. My eyes traveled across the light gray v-neck tee that hugged his strong chest in ways that should be illegal; the thin sliver of the perfect pale skin of his chest, dusted with a small amount of light brown hair; the silver chain that hung around his neck and disappeared beneath his shirt. Then up to his face; his square chin and angular jaw were covered in scruff. _For fuck's sake, he just _had_ to pick today not to shave_. Like it wasn't going to be hard enough to tell him I didn't want him, now I had to do it with a screaming ache between my legs, sending screaming contradictions through my body with every word.

Seeing him now was like seeing daybreak after a week of night. It made my stomach flip, my heart race, and my hands shake. But there was also an overwhelming sense of relief. I realized, with surprise, that I'd _missed_ him.

It was still so strange to me; even though I'd acknowledged these feelings, it was still unsettling to feel them. Because even though I knew they were there, I still didn't understand them. I didn't _like_ them. I hated the way he made me feel, but I couldn't help it.

"You're back!" He said, his face breaking into a huge smile.

I couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah."

"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow?"

"Change of plans." He nodded. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." He said, stepping to the side to let me pass.

I walked into the main room and my eyes automatically slid to the couch. I felt a blush heat my cheeks. I quickly walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. He came in and sat next to me.

"So, we need to talk."

"I know. I wanted to before, but, you just… you up and left."

"Sorry about that." I said, looking down at my hands. I couldn't meet his eyes. If I did, the intensity I knew I'd see there might break my resolve.

I heard him sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop using that word?"

I smiled slightly. "Sorry." I laughed.

"What am I going to do with you?" He said, laughing exasperatedly.

I shrugged and bit my lip. A short bout of silence followed. When I opened my mouth to talk, he started to say something at the same time. We both laughed awkwardly, and I paused.

"You go first." He said.

I nodded. "So, about the other night." I swallowed, and tried to remember the words I had rehearsed. "I think we should just call it what it was. I was drunk and being completely ridiculous, and you're a man. I mean, if a girl throws herself at you, I wouldn't expect you _not_ to respond. You're only human. And you were enough of a gentleman to stop me before I got out of hand. I'm really grateful for that. I hope I didn't make too big a fool out of myself. I really like you as a person, Edward, and I want us to be able to still be friends. Can we just call it water under the bridge and move on?" The words sounded so rehearsed and insincere, I had the urge to run out of the room.

"So, you want to just forget it ever happened?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah. I mean, sure, I'm attracted to you. You're an extremely good-looking guy. And obviously, you must be attracted to me for some inexplicable reason. I tried to fuck you because you're hot, and I was drunk. But it's not like we're the beginnings of an epic romance here, right?" I was babbling, and it was getting more and more embarrassing by the moment. "I'm no Juliet. And I don't do the whole relationship thing, anyways. Not that I'm saying you want a relationship with me. I'm just saying that we're not going to _have_ a relationship, you know? It's not like I want you _like that_. Not at all." I clamped my lips shut before anymore humiliating bullshit could come flying out.

Edward was quiet for what seemed like hours. "Are you finished?"

I just nodded without looking up.

"Good." He took a deep breath. "Bella, I think we both know it was a lot more than that. Yeah, you were drunk, so what? I've been around you when you were drunk before, and you would barely even let me be near you. And something tells me you're not the kind of woman who just goes around hooking up with random guys." He put one of his hands under my chin, and a jolt of electricity coursed through me. I looked up into his eyes. "I feel something when I'm with you. You can't tell me you don't feel it too."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I must've looked like a fish, the way I kept opening and closing my mouth without making a sound. I was shuffling around in my mind, trying to find something to say, but I was coming up empty. I just stared into those beautiful, intense pools of green, speechless.

I watched a resolution form in his eyes, and then they flickered away from my eyes, down to my lips. The release gave me a moment of clarity to situate my thoughts. I had to think fast. His face was inching closer to mine, and if his lips touched me, I knew I'd have already lost.

I pulled my face out of his hand and stood up. "I have to go."

"What?" He exclaimed. "Bella, don't."

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I can't do this." I ran toward the door, but Edward's legs were longer than mine. He caught up to me in an instant and caught my arm, spinning me to face him.

"I'm sorry, Bella. Please don't go. I didn't mean- _Shit!_" He ran his hand through his hair. "I fuck everything up."

The dejected look on his face made my heartache. I exhaled in a huff. "No, you don't. It's okay. You just… caught me off guard, is all."

He scoffed. "Right." He looked at me. "Can we just talk?"

I grabbed his arm and towed him back into the apartment, into the living room. We sat beside each other on the couch.

"That's not how I wanted this to go." He murmured, hanging his head in his hands.

He was angry with himself, and I hated it. I reached out and rubbed his back. He turned his head to the side to look at me.

"I know we kind of just met, but I care about you Bella. That's all I was trying to say. That's what I should've said."

I took my hand off of his back and folded it with my left one in my lap. "I care about you, too." I said to the floor. "But, I can't. I-I… I just…" I couldn't get the words out. I took a deep breath and tried again. "I can only be your friend."

"I know the deal. You don't date."

My head snapped up. "What?"

"You don't date."

"How do you know that?"

"At the bar, I asked Alice about you." He said guiltily. "I asked her if you were seeing anyone, and it just kind of progressed to that."

"Oh." I said. "Alice is right. I don't date."

"Aren't there exceptions?" He asked with halfhearted sarcasm.

I smiled lamely. "No. No exceptions." I looked over at him. "What else did Alice tell you?"

"That you don't like to be dependent on anyone." I just nodded. Alice knew me like the back of her hand. "Can I ask you why?"

"It's extremely complicated."

He shook his head. "Same answer every time." He mumbled.

I looked down at my hands for a long moment. "Edward, my mother is a drunk, and a drug addict. She wasn't much of a parent at all, and I lived with her my whole life. So I've been taking care of myself since as long as I can remember. The only person I ever depended on was my father, and he died when I was seven. And that _crushed_ me. Having the one person who I truly loved and trusted more than anything in the world taken away from me hurt _so badly_." I took a deep breath. "All I had after his death was myself. For fourteen years, I've only depended on me. It's what I know. It's just how I am." I knew exactly why I was telling him this; I wanted him to understand me. More than that, I didn't want him to blame himself for how I was being toward him.

I was still looking down at my hands, and he moved one of his to hold mine. I let him. He leaned forward and tilted his head to meet my eyes.

"Thank you for telling me that."

"You deserve to know why I can't be anything more than your friend." The truth was, that was only a fraction of the reason. The rest was way too painful to even begin to talk about.

"I understand. You don't ever want to feel the way you did when your father died, so you don't want to feel reliant on anyone the way you did him." His tone told me that it didn't make complete sense to him, but that he respected my feelings.

"Yeah." I squeezed his hand. "And, Edward…I'll admit it. The feelings you have for me aren't one sided. I feel them too. But I just can't do it. I want you in my life, but I'll understand if you don't want to be."

"I'll be your friend, Bella. Anything is better than nothing." He said softly.

I smiled. "Thank you."

"So, friend, do you want to grab some late lunch, or early dinner?"

"As long as you promise not to let me anywhere near liquor."

"Deal." He stood up and held his hand out to me, a smirk on his face. "Can I still hold your hand, though?"

I took his hand and let him help me up. "I suppose it won't hurt any."

He got a more conventional grip on my hand, weaving his fingers through mine, and pulled me out the door.

*****

**Bella's tattoo is a quote from the beautiful book ****Mama Day**** by Gloria Naylor.**

**More on Tuesday.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I know the last post was kind of boring, but it was a necessary transitional chapter.**

**Thank you guys so much for the overwhelming response. This fic has picked up so many new readers over the last week, and I want you all to know how grateful I am for your reviews, and just the fact that you like my work! Much love to all!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Twilight or any of its delicious characters. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*

**BPOV**

Something happened to me that night I kissed Edward. It was strange, like some dormant part of me had been awakened, and was slowly but surely gaining consciousness more and more every day. Everything was becoming clearer, and even though it was gradual, it was disorienting. This newly activated part of me made it increasingly difficult to grab a hold of my numbness, which made my job very hard. Soon enough, after I got finished with every single one of my clients, I would step outside into the fresh air and my stomach would lurch. I found myself throwing up after every 'date'.

The worst part of this new exposure wasn't the lack of insensitivity. It was that my nightmares were starting to come back. Well, not nightmare_s_; it was only one. Always the same one. I started having it when I'd first moved to New York, but after awhile, it stopped. Probably because most of the time, I was too exhausted to dream. But now, it was coming back with a vengeance. I'd wake up in a cold sweat almost every night, gasping for air, and couldn't go back to sleep until I got up and checked the locks on the door and windows. I felt like a crazy person, but at least I didn't scream.

Over the next few weeks, Edward and I spent a lot of time together. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable like I feared it would be. It was easy to be around him. I found out he couldn't cook for the life of him, so I made dinner for us a few nights a week and brought it over to eat with him before I had to leave to get ready for work. On the nights I had off, we'd sit on his couch and watch movies, or take a walk if it wasn't too cold. We'd talk about inane things, and make each other laugh for hours. We were starting to become great friends. I always bought two packs of cigarettes when I went to the store now.

On Saturday afternoon, I was planning on doing some much needed grocery shopping, when my truck decided it wasn't going to start. I got out and lifted the hood, but it was pointless; I just stared into the parts with a dumbfounded look on my face. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

"Come on. Stop being a dick." I mumbled to the truck.

"You mean to tell me this behemoth is yours?" I heard an all too familiar voice call.

I turned toward him, hands on my hips. "Hey, don't fuck with the truck. It has character."

"Is that what you're calling it?" He snickered as he came to stand next to me. "I make fun of this thing every time I pull in."

"That's because you're a big, fat jerk. My truck is a classic."

He widened his eyes. "Whatever you say." I threw my foot out to kick him, but he dodged it. "What's up?"

"It won't start."

"Surprise, surprise," he muttered, and poked his head under the hood. "Hm. I can give you a jump, and you can follow me to the shop. I'll have Rose take a look at it."

I bit my lip and considered. "Okay. She's due for a checkup anyway."

Edward jogged across the lot and got into a black Chevy Camaro with white racing stripes on the hood. It was a little weathered, but you could tell he took great care of it. It wasn't in mint condition, it was in frequently driven condition. It was a loved car. I wasn't exactly what anyone would call an autophile, but I'd always loved the look of Camaros. They were so distinctively badass.

"Like the car?" He asked smugly as he parked next to my truck and got out.

"Yeah. Camaros are, like, my favorite cars."

He opened the trunk to take out his battery cables. "I didn't peg you for a car enthusiast."

I snorted. "Not even close. I know some cars, though. What year is it?"

"'68."

"Ha! My truck is a '53. Therefore, you owe it some respect. Chevy owner to Chevy owner." He bowed exaggeratedly in front of my truck, and I rolled my eyes.

He jumped the truck and I followed him for about twenty minutes, until he turned right into the parking lot of 'Cullen's Auto Body'. The front of the building was a big auto parts shop, and I followed Edward' car around the side, to the garage. He stuck his hand out the window and waved me into the garage, while he pulled his car around to the back parking lot. I parked the truck and hopped out.

Rosalie was coming out of a door in the back with a severe look on her face. She was wearing a dirty jumpsuit and boots with her corn silk hair pulled back from her gorgeous face in a bun. I wouldn't have been surprised to see a photographer there taking pictures. Her beauty was so out of place in this environment, it almost seemed like a set up for a photo shoot.

I hadn't seen her since the party, and as soon as she saw me, she smiled and walked over. "Hey bitch. What are you doing here?" She hugged me.

I waved a hand toward my truck. "I'm in need of your mad automobile skills."

"You've come to the right place. I'll personally take care of it, since everyone else who works here is a lazy, half-ass slob." Edward came walking into the garage just then. "My brother-in-law included."

"Your brother-in-law included in what? Threesome?"

"You're so crass." I said harshly.

"Yes, and you're the pinnacle of decency."

"I know." I smirked.

"So what are we doing here, jerk off?" Rosalie asked.

They got into it then, throwing around technical words that made my head spin. I didn't even try to keep up. My ADD kicked in, and I started wandering around the garage. It was very unremarkable, as garages went. The floor was cement, the walls were white, and the doors were red. Toolboxes and workbenches lined the walls, and there were cords strewn across the floor, connecting tools to various outlets. Four garage doors stood open in front of four car slots. I ambled over to the far side of the garage, where someone was working on an SUV. As I got closer, I realized it was Jacob. He spotted me and stood up, pushing his protective goggles back on his head.

"Bella. Hey."

"Hi Jake."

"What brings you here?"

"Truck trouble."

"Do you want me to take a look?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks. Rosalie is checking it out."

"Cool. So, how've you been? We didn't really get a chance to talk at the party."

"I've been good. You know, same shit. How about you? How's Billy?"

"Good, good. Billy's great. Still mad at me for moving cross country."

"Of course. If it were up to him, you'd never set foot off the rez."

"You got that right." He rolled his eyes. "Clingy old man." I laughed.

I'd known Jacob Black for most of my life. He was a year and a half younger than me, and our fathers had been best friends since they were teenagers. Jake and I always hung out and played together when we were younger, while Billy and Charlie were fishing or watching the game. I'd kept in touch with the Blacks' after Charlie died, but we fell out of touch when I was a teenager. It was pure coincidence that I ran into Jake at one of Alice's parties last year.

"Bella, are you ready?" Edward asked, suddenly appearing by my side.

"Sure. Where are we going?"

"Where were you going before your truck decided to tank?"

"Grocery shopping."

"Then we're going grocery shopping."

"Okay." I smiled. "I'll see you later, Jake."

"Maybe we can get together soon. Catch up. We haven't hung out in ages."

"I know. I'd love that. I'll call you soon, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Bye, Bells."

I grabbed Edward's hand and we left the garage.

*

Grocery shopping with Edward can only be compared to shopping with a five-year-old. He pushed the cart for me, but every time something caught his eye, he would leave the cart in the middle of the aisle and examine whatever it was for a good three minutes. I almost left him in the snack aisle. I actually did take the cart and leave him in the cereal aisle. He caught up to me by the dairy products, and the disgruntled expression on his face made me laugh.

"Thanks for leaving me." He griped.

"You're too slow. I do want to be out of here before Christmas, you know."

Back at the apartment building, Edward helped me lug my bags up to our floor. I told him that my apartment was a mess and that I didn't want anyone to see it like that, and surprisingly, he didn't protest. He said he was going out for a smoke and to meet him at the car.

We went to a restaurant close to the garage to grab a bite to eat before we went to check on the truck

"How do you know Jacob?" He asked, apropos of nothing, when we were sitting in a booth.

"Ah, I've known Jake forever. My whole life, pretty much." I shrugged.

This surprised him. "Really?"

"Yeah. I told you my dad lived in Washington?" He nodded. "He lived in Forks. There's a little reservation a few miles down the coast from there, La Push. That's where Jake is from. His father and Charlie were best friends."

"Huh. Small world."

The waiter came to take our orders then. We exchanged some small talk while we waited for our food.

"When did you start fixing cars?" I asked after our food came.

"When I was fourteen."

"How did you get into it?"

"I just went out into the garage one day and saw Rose fixing Emmett's jeep. She started teaching me."

"They've been together that long?"

He shrugged. "If you could call it that. Rose and Em were, I guess you could say 'friends with benefits', since junior high. Then like six years ago they just hightailed it to Vegas and got married on a whim."

"Whoa. That's… quite a whim"

He laughed and shook his head. "Yeah."

"So, how long have you owned your business?"

"Me and Rosalie co-own it. Um, I was twenty when we opened it, so about four years."

I thought that over for a minute, cocking my head while I chewed a piece of chicken.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm just trying to figure it out. I mean, you own a business, you have a beautiful car, you wear nice clothes, your apartment is decked out with top of the line shit… and you live in a studio apartment in what isn't exactly the ritziest part of Brooklyn. What gives?"

He exhaled loudly. "My parents have money. A lot of money. But I didn't want them to do it all for me anymore, you know? I wanted to make my own way for a change. Plus, it's close to my garage." He finished lamely.

I narrowed my eyes. "There's something else."

"I guess I'm kind of like you, in a way. You only depend on yourself. I'm trying to figure out how to do that."

"But _why?_" It was obvious he was being evasive, and it irritated me. I had opened up to him, if only a little. Why couldn't he give me a little, too?

He looked away. "Carlisle and Esme have done more than enough for me just by adopting me. They saved my life."

I furrowed my brows and bit my lip for a long moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't think you need to hear about my fucked up life." He said, taking a bite of his burger.

"I told you about mine. And, I'm a pretty good listener."

He put the burger back down on his plate and wiped his hands on a napkin. "Okay, fine. Where to start?" He paused for a second and ran a hand through his hair. "My real parents were on their way back from a wedding when their plane crashed, and they were killed. I was just a baby. They were both only children, and my grandparents were all dead, so I got put into the system. Foster care was… brutal, as you can imagine. I'm sure you've heard the horror stories. I had pretty good foster parents when I was really young, but every home after that was fucking terrible. I was physically, emotionally, and mentally abused. I got beaten all the time. It wasn't just the foster parents, either. The older kids would wail on the younger kids to take out their anger. I pretty much had to sleep with one eye open, as cliché as that sounds."

He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. "I don't remember it all too clearly. I try to block a lot of shit out, you know? But what I remember most is the way I felt everyday. I was terrified to go home, and even more terrified at what would happen if I didn't. I felt hopeless. And then, I-" He paused, his face brooding, and I sensed that he was editing. "Then I met Carlisle when I was fourteen, and for the first time, I really believed there was kindness in the world."

"It's good that you met him, then." I said.

"Yeah. And, I need to be on my own now because… I guess I'm trying to prove to myself that I deserve everything my parents have given me."

I knew there were things he was leaving out, but I didn't want to push. It took a lot for him to talk about this, and I appreciated that. "Then it's commendable, what you're doing. Making the choice to live on your own and support yourself when you don't have to. It's admirable."

"Admirable." He scoffed. "Right. I'm not as strong as you are, Bella."

"What does that mean?" I asked, confused. I didn't see how strength tied into any of this.

"Nothing." He waved a hand dismissively. "Your foods getting cold."

I nodded and turned my attention to my chicken cordon bleu. I didn't press the issue.

When we got back to the garage, Rosalie was finished with the truck. I thanked her profusely. We exchanged phone numbers, and she told me I'd better call her to hang out soon or she'd 'turn my skinny ass inside out, vagina first'. She was a fucking riot.

"What do I owe you?" I asked Edward, pulling my checkbook out of my purse.

He snatched it from my hand and tried to shove it back into my bag. "_Free_ 99."

"No. I'm not going to let you do that." I argued.

"First time is on the house."

"Oh? Do you do that for all your new customers?"

"Nope. It's a special one-day deal. Valid today, between the hours of," he looked at his watch, "two and six PM, for adorable brunettes with ancient trucks only."

"Is that so?"

He nodded seriously. "We're very specific here at Cullen's Auto Body." I sighed exasperatedly.

Rosalie came out of the back carrying a cardboard box. "What the fuck are you two still doing here?"

"Negotiating a price." I called back to her.

She rolled her eyes. "For fuck's sake, Bella, just blow him in the parking lot and call it even." She disappeared through the door that led to the front shop.

I blushed and turned my head to hide my face from Edward. I knew Rosalie had meant it jokingly, and obviously she had no idea that she wasn't too far off from what I did for a living. But her words struck a chord deep in my chest, and I had to swallow back the bile that rose in my throat.

"Are you going to keep being stubborn, or can we go?" Edward asked.

I nodded without meeting his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

*

The following weekend, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, and I made plans for a night out on the town. Alice took the outing as an excuse to use me as her personal life sized Barbie doll. She tried to get me into a short, strapless dress, but I reminded her that it was November, and she'd be the one taking the brunt of my anger when I was freezing my ass off. We compromised on a silk long sleeved blue top with dark gray skinny jeans and black studded pumps. She curled the ends of my hair and pulled the front back into a clip. I threatened bodily harm when she started her hysterical ramblings about foundation and concealer, so she grudgingly settled for just mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss.

I went out on the fire escape for a smoke while Alice got herself ready. For some reason, she insisted on taking forever and a day to make me up, but took only minutes on herself. I suspected it was for the sole purpose of watching me grow more irritated by the second.

As I was snubbing out the butt of my cig, I heard knocking coming from the front of my apartment. I jumped back through the window and practically ran to the door. From the bathroom, Alice shouted, "Where's the fire?"

It was Edward, of course, and he was looking more gorgeous than anyone had a right to. He was wearing dark jeans with a white button up, with his usual boots and leather jacket. My knees went weak.

"You look beautiful." He said, smiling my favorite crooked smile.

"Likewise." I said, and blushed.

He laughed. "Not exactly the look I was going for, but I'll take it."

"You know what I mean, jackass."

"Already starting with the name calling." He shook his head. "It's going to be a long night."

"You should be used to it by now." I said, matter-of-factly.

His eyes traveled down from my face, and I was about to scold him for staring at my chest, when he said, "That color blue looks amazing on you." I blushed deeper and looked down at my shoes.

"Okay, Casanova. Can we _please_ go get our party on?" Alice exclaimed, appearing beside me.

She shoved my jacket and purse into my hands and pushed past me, dancing her way toward the elevator. I locked my door, and pulled my arms through my jacket while I walked down the hall.

The plan was to start the night at a bar near Times Square, then hit up a nightclub once we were all good and drunk. Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett met us at the street entrance to the subway station in the city. When we met up with them, Rosalie threw her arms around mine and Alice's shoulders.

"Ladies, are we ready to have a night to remember?"

"Nope, but I am ready to get so drunk, I forget my own name." I qualified.

She squeezed my shoulders. "That's the spirit!"

The guys were behind us while we walked toward the bar. Emmett was talking to Jasper in his booming loud voice about how hot Rosalie's ass looked in her jeans. I didn't hear Edward's voice, so I glanced back at him reflexively, and frowned. He was walking with his hand shoved in his pockets, head down, eyes on the ground. I twisted out from under Rosalie's arm and stopped walking to wait for him. I snaked my arm through his when he caught up. He looked down at me and smiled, but his face already looked tired.

I hadn't really though about it before, and I didn't know what his reasons were, but I realized then how difficult it must be for Edward to keep from drinking when everyone else around him was getting hammered. By the time we got to the bar, I'd decided I wasn't going to drink too much. I'd have a few drinks, but I wouldn't get plastered. I wanted to make it a little less uncomfortable for him. Plus, if I could refrain from making a giant fool out of myself again, I'd gladly take it.

It wasn't too crowded in the bar, but it was still pretty lively. We were lucky enough to snag a big rounded booth in the back. When it came time to order drinks, I got vodka on the rocks to start with. But when round two came around, I opted for just a Coke. Alice asked me why, and I told her I was pacing myself. Emmett called me a pussy, and I childishly stuck my tongue out at him.

"Hey, Bella, what about getting us into that fancy club you work at?" He asked a little while later, when we were all discussing which club to go to.

"I don't think it'd be much fun." I hedged.

"Why not?"

"It's pretty dull on the weekends. Most of the clientele are suits, and they usually come in on weekdays. You know, telling their wives they're working late so they can go knock a few back. Not very exciting."

"That's okay." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm not really up for paying $500 for a bottle of champagne unless I can break it over someone's head."

"Must you be a Neanderthal?" Rosalie griped.

"Watch it, woman, or that bottle will be breaking over your head." He joked.

"Fine. Let's see if you get any tonight." Rosalie said with a wicked grin.

"Aw, baby, come on. You know you love my cave man sex." He said, nuzzling her neck. Rosalie squealed and grabbed his face to kiss him. I got the impression that Rosalie and Emmett were less than subtle about their relationship.

Everyone started in on round four of drinks and shots, and Edward stood up. He leaned down and asked me if I wanted to go out for a smoke. I said yes. Outside, we stood close beside each other and leaned back against the building. We didn't talk, but it was a comfortable silence.

When we were heading back inside, I felt someone grab on to my arm. I turned around to face a vaguely familiar young man. He had long black hair, dark, beady eyes, and an uneven beard covering the majority of the bottom half of his face. I recognized him as I client I had about a month ago. I never forgot a face.

"Sophia?"

I blanched, and shot a look over at Edward. He was looking back and forth between me and the man, his brows drawn over his eyes.

I tried to swallow around the lump that formed in my throat. "What?" Was all I could manage.

"Don't you remember me? I remember you. Man, that was a wild night. Hey, would I have to call to book you again, or, since I ran into you-"

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person." My eyes darted to the side to read the expression on Edward's face. He was confused.

He laughed. "Come on. I wasn't that forgettable." He was obviously drunk.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I pulled my arm away and turned, but he grabbed it again.

"Hey! Don't walk away from me!"

Before I even knew what was happening, Edward was violently prying the guy's fingers from my arm. He stepped protectively in front of me and looked down at the man, who was a considerable amount shorter than him. "She said you have her confused with someone else. Now, I suggest you move the fuck along if you want to keep that hand attached to your arm." I couldn't see his face, but his voice sounded lethal.

The man held up his hands. "Hey, man, chill."

"Apologize." Edward said, low and menacing.

The man glanced at me quickly and mumbled, "Sorry. My mistake." Then he turned and quickly stalked off, rubbing at his wrist.

Edward turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?" His expression showed nothing but concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

When we got back inside, I grabbed Alice and nearly dragged her to the bathroom with me. I shut the door and locked it behind us. My breath was coming in shallow, uneven spurts, and I leaned back against the door, reveling in the coolness against my back. I was practically sweating from the anxiety.

"What happened?" Alice asked worriedly.

"I just had a _really_ close call."

"What do you mean?"

"Edward and I just ran into one of my old clients outside."

"Oh my God. Did he recognize you?"

"Yeah, I told him he had the wrong person. He knew it was me, though. He was so adamant. He grabbed me, and Edward almost pounded his face in."

"Bella…" She trailed off, shaking her head with wide eyes.

"I know. I dodged a fucking atomic bomb this time." I sighed and cradled my head in my hands, closing my eyes, willing myself to calm down. "What if it happens again? When I'm with Edward?" I shook my head. "There's no way he's dumb enough to think two guys calling me 'Sophia' is a coincidence."

Alice put her hands on my shoulders. I opened my eyes and looked down at her. She was looking at me pointedly. "Relax. It happened, and you got yourself out of it. Stop stressing, and just enjoy the rest of the night. What's the chance of running into two clients in one night, in chaotic New York City? Slim to none."

I exhaled heavily. "You're right. Thanks, Alice."

"Who knew I was so good at rationalization when I'm drunk?"

We went out to rejoin our group, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach didn't subside.

*

When we got to the club, it was crowded and loud, and they were pumping music that you couldn't help but move your feet to. The guys hung back at first, and Alice, Rosalie, and me took to the floor, bumping and grinding on each other to the beats. Rose turned toward me and put her hand on the back on my neck, swaying against me while Alice danced at her back. We were laughing and having a blast. Every guy that happened to pass by us turned and blatantly stared. I could hear Emmett hooting over the music, and I swear he yelled "Twenty bucks says if we get this on tape, we make a fortune."

After a few songs, Emmett couldn't help himself anymore, and he came over and stole Rosalie, followed by Jasper, who kidnapped Alice. I saw Edward hanging on the fringes of the dance floor, looking at me. I smiled and quickly went over to grab him.

Electricity shot through my body where Edward's hands touched me. If the lights were a little dimmer, I would swear you'd be able to see the sparks. His hands were on my hips where they swayed in unison with his. Thanks to my heels, my ass was in almost perfect alignment with his groin. I put my hands on top of his, and he pulled me closer until my back was pressed against his chest. I thought I felt something press into my hair, but I couldn't be sure. I was sure that I felt something pressing against my backside, though, and I blushed.

"Why aren't you drinking much tonight?" He leaned down and asked, his warm breath in my ear.

I turned around in his arms to face him, and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my lips close to his ear. "We don't need a repeat of Halloween."

He held me close to his body, his arms wrapped around my waist. "Good call. I don't think I'd be able to help myself again."

"Yes you would. Your chivalry knows no bounds. I'd just rather not make a fool out of myself again."

"This has nothing to do with chivalry. You're fucking with my self control, here."

"You're pretty good at that, too."

"I try. But you don't make it easy."

"What fun would that be?" I said with a cheeky smile. He squeezed me closer in a hug and laughed, deep and sexy, in my ear. The ache between my legs was almost painful.

After a while of dancing, which was ultimately just one big sexually frustrating tease, Edward had to use the bathroom, and I was dying hot, and bothered. I told him I was going to grab us some waters, and to meet me at the bar. I asked the bartender for two bottled waters, and leaned against the bar while I waited.

"Did it hurt?"

I whipped my head around to the sound of the voice. "Excuse me?"

A stout man with pale blonde hair, and arms too big for his shirt frame, was sitting on a stool leaning toward me with a shit-eating grin on his face. "When you fell from heaven?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously? Are you really trying to pick me up with that cheesy line?"

"Don't be like that, sugar."

I almost gagged at the repulsive pet name. The bartender put the two bottles in front of me, and I handed him money. I turned back to blondie. "Word of advice: get some new material."

There was a hand on my waist then, and a smooth velvet voice sounded in my ear. "You must be tired, because you've been running through my mind all day." He made sure his voice was loud enough for blondie to hear.

I turned to him with a sexy smile. "I can think of better things we could be doing to make me tired."

Edward grabbed the waters off the bar in one hand, and wound his other arm around my waist. As we walked away, I shot a look over my shoulder toward the man at the bar. He was staring after us in bewildered disbelief. When we got out of his line of sight, I turned and leaned my head on Edward's chest, shaking with laughter.

"That was too good. Did you see the look on his face?"

Edward was still and silent, except for the irregular rise and fall of his chest, and I pulled back to look at his face. He was squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, his eyes closed, jaw clenched tight. I put my hand on his and tugged it away from his face. He took a deep, slow breath and opened his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I have trouble controlling my temper sometimes, Bella."

I furrowed my eyebrows. _Why was he angry?_ "Did I do something…" I trailed off.

He reached up and smoothed the crease between my eyes with his fingers. "Yeah, you did. But you can't really help the fact that you're too damn beautiful for your own good." His expression softened. "That's the second time in- what? Three hours- that I had to pull you away from dudes hitting on you."

"Don't worry." I smiled slightly, curled the fingers on both of my hands into circles, and held them in front of my eyes. "Beer goggles."

He pulled my hands away from my face and rolled his eyes. "Trust me, no one has to be drunk to find you attractive."

I snatched one of the water bottles from his hand. "Right." I was the one rolling my eyes now.

He put his hand on the side of my neck and smiled crookedly at me. "I'm serious."

"Come on, kiss ass, let's go dance." I pulled his hand down from my neck and wove our fingers together.

We found Rosalie and Emmett, who were all but dry humping each other on the dance floor, and Jasper and Alice, who were sitting at a table in a secluded corner talking, with their heads close together. We went out for a cigarette, and by the time we got back inside, everyone was ready to leave. I glanced down at my watch, and was shocked to realize that it was almost three in the morning. _Time flies when you're having fun. Or trying to keep yourself from ravishing Edward in the middle of the club._

*

On the train ride home, Alice was uncharacteristically quiet and pensive. After a night of drinking, an Alice who was not either bumbling with energy or half-asleep scared me.

"Alice, are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm drunk and tired, Bella." She answered curtly.

I didn't bother talking to her for the rest of the ride, except to say goodbye when she got off at her stop.

"I wonder what's up with her." I said to Edward when we got off at our stop.

"Hm?" He sounded like I pulled him out of his thoughts. I looked up at him.

"Alice. She was acting kind of strange."

"I didn't notice."

I shrugged. "I know her too well. I notice everything."

When we got to the hallway on our floor, Edward pulled me into a hug. I was positive that he kissed the top of my head this time, but I didn't mind. It felt nice.

"Goodnight." He said, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go.

"Goodnight."

*

The next morning, I was woken up by a phone call from a very distraught Alice. As soon as I picked up the phone, I barely had a chance to say 'Hello' before she was babbling a mile a minute. I didn't catch a word she was saying. When she finally paused to take a breath, I decided this would probably be my only chance to jump in.

"Alice, Alice, slow down. I can't understand you. Breathe." I heard her take a few breaths. "Good. Now, what's wrong?"

"Jasper tried to kiss me last night."

"And…?"

"_And_, I couldn't let him, obviously. I told him I wanted to take things slow."

"Was he mad?"

"No, he was great. He said he was glad to go at my pace." She sighed. "Bella, how can I let him kiss me when he doesn't even know me? I like him, a lot, but I don't know what to do. If I kiss him, I'm already betraying him." She was crying, and my heart ached for her. I wished I could give her a hug.

"I wish I knew what to tell you, Al, but I just don't."

"What should I do? I mean, I don't want to tell him what I do, because then, I risk losing him. But if I don't tell him, and I just _be_ with him, then I'm lying to him by omission. You can't build a relationship based on lies."

"You really care about him, don't you?"

"Yes. Bella, I know I just met him like a month ago, but… I can't explain it. Being with him feels… _substantial_."

Since we met, I always knew Alice would find someone who would be her driving force for getting out of the business. And hearing her talk this way, I knew that what she had going with Jasper was very important to her. Alice wasn't one to see love where lust lay, and she had an intuition like no one I'd ever met. If she thought this was something real, I wouldn't take bets against her.

"Okay. So… why don't you wait a little while. See where things go. If you decide that you really like him, and that you want to be with him, then tell him. If he cares about you, he won't just leave. I know you, Alice. If you tell him, and he can accept it… if this is the real deal, you'll be out of this business in a second. Don't let what you do hinder what you want, what you deserve."

"Thanks Bella. You always know what to say." She sniffled. "You know, he invited me over to his parents' house for Thanksgiving."

"Really? That's great." I had to admit that a tiny, selfish part of me was a little upset. Alice and I had been having Thanksgiving dinner together for three years straight, ever since we met.

As if reading my thoughts, she said quickly, "I won't go if you don't want me to. We can do dinner together like always, and I can just see Jasper next weekend."

"No. No, Alice, go. You worry about me too much."

"I can't help it. You're all I've got."

"Lucky you." I said sarcastically. "You have Little P, too. And he and I will have a lovely, romantic Thanksgiving dinner without you, thank you very much."

"Save me some of your green bean casserole?"

"You got it."

When I hung up the phone with Alice, I laid back against my pillows, thinking. Alice deserved the world and all it had to offer, and it made me happy to think that she might just find her out with Jasper. This business should have never been her burden to carry; she was too good for it.

But I couldn't help but wonder if I was neglecting my own advice. _Am I letting what I do get in the way of what I deserve?_ I knew what I wanted, as much as I tried to fight it. Even if I didn't understand the logistics of exactly how I felt about Edward, I knew myself enough to know that I wanted him. I shook my head, because I knew my answer, too. _No_, because Edward wasn't what I deserved. He was like Alice, he deserved the world. I deserved what I got.

*

**So, now you got your first look at Edward's possessive, protective streak.**

**Next chapter is going to be the start of A LOT of drama. Leave me lots of love, and I will see you on Friday!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Twilight or any of its delicious characters. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*

**BPOV**

The week of Thanksgiving, work was, for all intensive purposes, nonexistent. It almost gave me a shred of hope for humanity that men would put aside their selfish tendencies to spend the holiday with their families. Almost.

Instead of feeling stagnant like I thought I would, I relished in the week off. My apartment was spotless, all my clothes were clean, and I finally got around to baking the pineapple rum cake I'd been craving for a month and a half. I even had time to start reading a book for the first time in months. It was a book I'd read a million times, but I'd forgotten how good it felt to pass the time getting lost in literature. It was consuming.

Early in the week, Edward dropped by to ask me if I wanted to come to his parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner. This both surprised me and confused me. I told him that I'd rather not, without a specific reason, and after much arguing he let it go.

Going home to meet the parents just felt too intimate to me, in a strange way. I felt that if I went, it would blur the lines between friendship and something else even more. And as much as I'd been trying to keep those lines blatantly clear between us, I had to admit that I'd been contributing to the blurring. I couldn't help that I liked the way his big, warm, rough hand felt around mine, or that the sound of his soulful laugh put a smile on my face. I knew it wasn't right, but being around him felt almost too natural to contemplate.

I spent most of Thursday morning cooking dinner for myself, baking a coconut cream pie, and periodically sitting on the couch to catch bits of the Macy's Day Parade. I'd always loved watching the floats and balloons. The first year I moved here, I dragged Alice out to Columbus Circle in Manhattan to watch the parade go by. I was like a kid in the candy store that day, pointing at every single float, and squealing when the Spongebob Squarepants balloon came by. It was the most fun I'd had in years.

On the thought of things that were fun and not fun, I decided to make the obligatory Thanksgiving Day call to Renee. The phone rang four times, and then the answering machine picked up. It was still my fourteen-year-old voice on the message.

"Hi, you've reached Bella, Renee, and Phil. We can't get to the phone right now. Leave a message, and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks." _Beep_.

"Mother, it's Bella. Just calling to say Happy Thanksgiving. I'll talk to you later. Bye." I hung up the phone and let out a deep breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

I always got so worked up when I knew I had to talk to her. I hated those few seconds when I sat listening to the rings of the phone, wondering with every ring what version of my mother I would get. Would she be drunk? High? Both? Would she be slurring her words, or crying sick from withdrawal?

And why wasn't she answering the phone now? Was she too high or drunk to make it to the phone, or was she out getting another score? I knew she wasn't busy making dinner. She couldn't cook, even when she was sober. It made my stomach turn just thinking about the possibilities, until I remembered that I didn't care. She'd chosen her path, and I'd chosen mine, away from her. She wasn't my mother anymore. She was a stranger.

I counted backwards from ten, and let the stress slip from my mind. She wasn't my affliction.

*

Later that night, after I had stuffed myself to the seams with turkey and all the fixings, I lounged on my couch watching 'A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving' in a pair of boxer shorts and an old faded t-shirt that said 'If You Don't Like Secondhand Smoke You Can Kiss My Butt' with a picture of a cartoon cigarette. It had just gotten to the part in the special where Peppermint Patty invites herself over to Charlie's for Thanksgiving, when someone knocked on my door. I hauled my bloated self off the couch with a groan and trudged to the door.

I opened the door, and it was Edward, of course. "Hey."

"Hey. Happy Thanksgiving." I said.

"You too." He looked me up and down. "Where are you going, all dressed up?"

"Well, _obviously_ I'm going to Miss America tryouts."

"You're a shoo-in for the crown."

"Naturally." I rolled my eyes. "How was your day?" I had to pretend not to be surprised at my sudden question. It sounded so… domestic.

"Great." He patted his stomach. "Fattening."

"Ditto. How was dinner? I mean, did your parents like Alice?"

"Are you kidding? I thought my mom was going to adopt her. They didn't stop talking to each other all day."

I smiled. "That's good. I'm glad."

A strange expression crossed his face that I didn't comprehend. "Here." He handed me a paper plate covered with foil. "I snagged you a piece of my mom's pumpkin pie."

"You didn't have to do that." I beamed, forgetting all about his bizarre mood changes. Pumpkin pie was my favorite, but I'd forgotten to get pumpkin at the grocery store, so I couldn't make one myself.

He shrugged. "It's probably nothing compared to yours, but it's delicious. I figured I owed you one after all the baking you've done for me."

"Thank you." The fact that he had been thinking of me today made me oddly warm inside.

"No problem." He waved noncommittally as he turned to head to his apartment. "See you later."

I bit down on my lip, thinking, as he made his way toward his door. "Hey, Edward?"

He turned toward me with his hand on the knob. "Yeah?"

This was something I had been thinking a lot about over my week off. I know, to other people, inviting someone into their apartment wasn't such a big deal. But to me, it was huge. I don't know why I had this extreme aversion to inviting people over; maybe it had to do with the fact that I was a call girl, and my apartment was the only thing I had that was really my own. Or maybe it was the fact that it was, indeed, my _own_ place. My first, _own_ place, and therefore, very special and singular to me.

But whatever it was, I knew I was ready. I was ready to let Edward inside of my apartment. He was a part of what made me feel good, feel safe, now.

"Do… do you want to come in?"

*

**EPOV**

My eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"Do you want to come in?" She said, looking a little less sheepish this time.

I furrowed my eyebrows for a second, just to make sure I was actually hearing her correctly, and then I nodded. "Yeah. Sure."

She stepped to the side of the doorway to let me in, and I walked past her, contemplating how monumental this was. I knew she had issues with letting people into her home, just like she had issues letting people in, period. But I'd come to realize that Bella wasn't the type to let you know how she was feeling with words. She did it with understated, seemingly meaningless actions. In her own way, this was her telling me that she felt safe with me. Maybe she didn't _trust_ me yet, but she knew I was safe.

Her apartment was a reflection of her; dark, and edgy, and well put together. The walls were a dark, almost silvery gray. A long red leather couch curved in front of a rectangular wooden coffee table with wrought iron legs. Looking around her place, I realized that most of her furniture had wrought iron incorporated into it in some way.

Her flat screen TV wasn't as big as mine, and instead of being mounted on the wall, hers sat on a stand that matched the coffee table. A matching desk was pressed up against the half wall that separated the main room from the kitchen, and a big leather chair sat in front of it. Across from the desk, in the bedroom nook, her bed frame was, again, wrought iron. The headboard was rounded and had an elaborate design. Her pillows cases were white, her comforter red with squares of white, black, and red again that got smaller as they went toward the center. Above her bed was a huge framed black and white poster of The Beatles.

In the main room, there was a tall shelf on the far left wall. The top two shelves were stuffed with books, the bottom two with DVDs. The shelf in the middle was perplexing and random, and I couldn't find a tying theme. It held an old record player, a stack of vinyl records, and a single picture frame. I went to the shelf and looked at the vinyls first.

Help!, Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, The White Album, Abbey Road, and Let it Be. All Beatles albums. I gaped at the records in my hands.

"Do you know how much money you could make selling these?" I said incredulously.

She shook her head vehemently. "Uh uh. No way. Those babies are going to be in my possession until I die. They mean way too much to me."

"How did you get them? You must've spent a fortune."

"Not a dime. They were my dad's. He had me listening to The Beatles while I was still in the womb." She laughed, and it was so wistful, it made my heartache. "I blame him for my unnatural fixation."

Just then, she looked down and grinned. She bent over and picked up an orange cat, cradling him against her chest and scratching behind his ear. "There you are! Why were you hiding, huh?"

"This must be Paul." I assumed.

"Yes, this is the man of the house."

"And, I'm going to go out on a whim here and say you named him after Paul McCartney?"

"Paul McCartney Swan Jr." She said, and nodded sheepishly. "I kind of have a thing for him." She paused. "I'm more than a little obsessed."

"At least your obsessed with good music." I qualified.

"My father only listened to the best." She agreed.

"Is that him?" I asked, pointing toward the single picture frame on the shelf.

In the picture was a little girl, who I assumed was Bella. She was wearing a one-piece bathing suit and a pair of shorts, her brown hair damp and matted, and her wide smile revealing a gap where her front tooth should've been. She was sitting on the lap of a man with curly brown hair and milk chocolate eyes, the same exact color as Bella's. He was smiling widely under a full mustache, and had his arms lovingly wrapped around the little girl. It was sunny and the sky above was a perfect blue, and the picture just emitted pure joy.

Bella must've put her cat down, and she reached over to pick up the frame. "Yeah. That's my dad. Chief Charlie Swan." She looked at me with a smile. "Charlie was the chief of police in Forks."

"Oh."

She tapped the glass of the frame lightly. "We were in California. Dad took me to Sea World. It was our last vacation together, before…" She trailed off.

"What happened, Bella? I mean, how did he…"

She took a deep shaky breath, and ran her fingers over her father's face. She bit her lip, and I imagined she was thinking about where to start.

"Um… well, I told you about La Push, right? The reservation where Jacob is from?" I nodded. "The Quileute tribe lives there. But there's another reservation nearby, the Makah reservation, and the Quileutes have never really gotten along with them." She looked at me, breaking away from the story for a minute. "The Quileutes had a gang, I guess, for lack of a better word. They called themselves 'The Pack'. They're the protectors of the tribe, or something like that." She looked back at the photo and shook her head infinitesimally. "Anyways, I guess some of the Makah guys were selling drugs, even selling them to kids and shit, so The Pack confronted them about it. Well, one day the Makahs went down to La Push to start problems with The Pack for tipping off the police about the drug running. The La Push cops heard rumors that the Makahs were carrying weapons, so they called for back up. Of course, my dad was the first to go down to help. He had a ton of friends on the reservation," she shrugged, "and that's just how Charlie was. He'd help anyone. So, the rumors were true, the Makahs did have weapons. When Charlie pulled up, the fight had already broken out. Some of the Quileute guys had been stabbed. The La Push cops were trying to break up the fight, and Charlie jumped out to help. Some of the Makahs started running away, and Charlie chased after them. One guy had a gun. He started shooting, and… my father got hit twice, once in the chest, once in the stomach. They said he died almost instantly, that he didn't suffer."

Her eyes were wet and gleaming, and when she saw me looking at her, she turned her face away. She put the frame back on the shelf and wiped at her eyes roughly. I reached my hand out and rubbed her back. She looked up at me, and even though it was clear of tears, her face was still sad.

"He was an amazing man, the greatest. He didn't deserve to die."

"He protected people he cared about with his life. That's an honorable death, if I've ever heard of one." I soothed.

"Yeah, well, whether his death was honorable or not, he was still taken from me. I still had to live without my father." She said sharply, then sighed and put a hand over her face. "God, that sounds so selfish."

"Bella, wishing you had more time with someone you care about isn't selfish. It's human." She didn't say anything; she just shook her head and stared at the floor. I stepped in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders.

"I'm really sorry."

"Thanks." She seemed to relax a bit, and brought her head up to meet my eyes. "You know, you think the more time that passes, the easier things get. But some things…"

"Hit you just as hard everyday."

"Exactly."

"That's why you got your tattoo, then." She looked at me questioningly. "I saw it when you were sleeping on my couch." I explained.

"Oh, right." Her expression cleared. "Yeah. It's a quote from a book I read when I was a teenager. It just kind of hit me right here," she put her hand over her heart, "you know? Because no matter how much time passes, I still miss my dad like it was yesterday. And I know that will never go away. I'll always miss him." Her voice was so soft and sullen, that I almost didn't recognize it. A sharp ringing from the phone in the kitchen broke into the long moment of silence.

"I'll be right back." She said, and jogged toward the kitchen. I sat down on the couch, and smiled at the TV. It was showing the ending credits of 'A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving'. She was such an enigma.

I could hear her voice coming from the kitchen. "Hello?… Hi mother… I called you earlier… Yes I did. Did you check the messages?… Then that's why you didn't know I called…Yeah, you too…" The tone of her voice changed. It suddenly became sharper and annoyed. "No…because I can't. I don't have it… Both…I don't give a fuck… Don't tell me what to do…_Really?_ I think you lost that right a _long_ time ago… Whatever, Renee. I'm not sending you anything, so you can just forget it… It's your own fault… Look, I have to go, okay? Can we just talk later?… None of your business… Yeah. Okay. Bye."

I heard her hang up the phone, and then there was a long bout of silence, before I heard her sigh heavily. I walked over to the kitchen to check on her. She was bent at the waist, her elbows on the island countertop, her head hanging in her hands. Her profile was toward me, and I could see that her eyes were closed tightly. Her lips were moving silently, but she wasn't making a sound.

"Bella, is everything okay?"

She let out another sigh before straightening up and turning fully away from me.

"It's nothing. Everything's fine." She started shuffling around aimlessly in the sink, turning the water on, then off, then on again while picking up the dishes in the sink and putting them back down over and over. She was trying to distract herself.

I took a step closer to her, reaching a hand out for her. "Bella-"

"I don't want to talk about her." She snapped.

I stopped and let my hand fall to my side. After a moment, she took a deep breath, shut the water off again, and turned her head to look over her shoulder while keeping her eyes on the floor.

"Look, I'm sorry. Its just… there are some things that I can't talk about, okay? I just _can't_."

"Enough said. I'm sorry."

She turned around and leaned back against the counter, her eyes still on the floor. "Don't be sorry. I know you mean well. I shouldn't have snapped."

"No harm, no foul."

She looked up at me finally, with a small apologetic smile. "Thanks." She pushed off the counter behind her and turned toward the one to her left, reaching up to the cabinet. She pulled a plate out, then went over to the island and pulled the lid off of a plastic cake plate. "You have to try my coconut cream pie. It's to die for."

"Tooting your own horn, huh?" I said and stepped closer to her, relieved at the loss of tension.

She put a slice on the plate and shoved it toward me. "Just try it."

I took a bite, and was instantly lost in the sensation of the taste in my mouth. This woman was going to kill me. Her baking was out of this world. "Mm. Yeah, the horn tooting is justified." I closed my eyes and took another bite, moaning. "So fucking good."

She laughed. "You look like your enjoying yourself, there, buddy."

"Your baking is going to be the death of me." I groaned.

"Yeah, well, don't enjoy yourself too much. That's a nice pair of pants you have on, I wouldn't want to see them ruined."

I snapped my eyes open and looked at her. She was blushing madly and biting her lip to hold back her giggles. I stared at her incredulously for a second, and couldn't hold back my own laughs.

"You're twisted, you know that?" I said.

After we both recovered, Bella poured us two glasses of apple cider. We went into the living room to sit on her couch and watch TV.

"Tell your mom her pie tastes like heaven." Bella said after a minute.

I nearly choked on my cider. Bella looked at me curiously, then understanding touched her eyes, and she burst into laughter, blushing deeply.

"Okay. I did _not_ mean it like that."

"You're on a roll today, huh?"

She held up her hands. "Hey, I can't be held accountable for the things that come out of my mouth. I was cursed at birth to go through life without a filter."

"That's a convincing argument. Blame it on genetics."

"The blame needs to go somewhere, right? I'm sure as hell not owning up to it. Some fucked up things come flying out of here." She said, pointing to her mouth.

"Don't I know it." I agreed.

The rest of the night, Bella and I watched TV, laughed, and talked about inconsequential things. When there was nothing good to watch on TV, she hopped up to grab a movie off the shelf. With a mischievous smile, she put the DVD in and came to sit back down next to me, closer this time. I slung my arm around her shoulder, and she relaxed into my side.

"What did you put in?"

"It's a surprise."

A few seconds later, the opening credits for a movie called 'A Hard Day's Night' came on.

"What's this?"

She gaped at me. "A Hard Day's Night. It's a Beatles movie. You've never seen it?"

"No."

She shook her head disparagingly. "I don't know how you've gone through life without seeing such great movies. It deeply saddens me." She sighed exaggeratedly.

I laughed at her. "It's good that I have you to show me the light."

"Yes, you're very lucky. Now, shh!" She turned her face toward the TV. "This movie is hilarious."

I didn't realize Bella had fallen asleep until I heard her start to snore lightly. I tightened my arm around her shoulders. Her left arm was resting against my leg, and I took her hand in mine, palm up, and unconsciously traced small circles along her creamy skin. I felt an almost undetectable small, straight bump along her arm, and furrowed my eyebrows as I swept her arm again and felt a few more. I held her arm up to inspect it, and turned it tentatively, until the glow from the TV hit it in such a way that it threw one of the marks into focus.

Unless you were really looking for them, you wouldn't have been able to see them. They were old, long healed over, and faded with age. But they were there, and seeing them made my chest constrict in an unfamiliar, almost painful way. Across the length of the inside of her left forearm, there were shiny silver-pink horizontal scars. There was only one way she could've gotten these scars; I'd seen it before, met people who were in rehab because of it. Bella had been a cutter.

I leaned my head down and pressed a kiss to her forearm. The movie's closing credits began rolling then, and I took the remote from her lap, turning off the DVD player and the TV. I gingerly moved her off of me and stood up. I picked her up in my arms, she was light as a feather, and carried her to her bed. I pushed back the covers as best I could with one hand, then softly laid her down, puling them over her. I moved to pull away, but her hand fisted into the fabric of my shirt. I looked at her face through the darkness, to see that her eyes were still closed. She was still sleeping.

"Stay." She said so quietly, it was little more than a soft sigh.

After seeing those scars on her arm, my resolve was next to nothing. I knew we had this 'we can only be friends' understanding, and spending the night in her bed didn't really fall into that category, but I just wanted to be close to her. So I did as she asked. I climbed into the bed beside her and pulled her into my arms. Her hand relaxed against my shirt, and she sighed contentedly as her head moved to my shoulder.

"I won't let anything hurt you, Bella." I vowed softly, pressing my lips to her hair.

*

I opened my eyes in the morning to a mass of fluffy orange fur covering my eyes.

"What the fuck?"

I felt Bella lean her head into my chest and shake with laughter. I peered down through my lids to try and see her. She lifted her head to look at me, but her face was obscured. I thought she was smiling.

"Sorry. You're on his pillow."

Bella sat up and reached over me. She picked up the cat, freeing me from my furry prison. She propped herself up on her knees and leaned over me to put him on the side of the bed.

"Down, Paul. Get down." She swatted at him, missed, and lost her balance. She came tumbling down, falling flush against my chest with an, "Oof!"

My arms automatically went around her. "Are you okay?" I laughed.

"Clumsy, remember?" She said, a deep blush heating her cheeks.

"How could I forget?" A piece of her hair fell to my face, tickling my cheek. I reached my hand up and tucked it behind her ear, my eyes never leaving hers.

Our chests were pressed against each other, and her face was just inches from mine. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in that impossibly adorable way she had, and I heard her breathing kick up a notch. Her eyes fell away from mine and she looked down to where her hands rested on my chest. Her eyebrows furrowed suddenly, and I followed her gaze. She picked up the necklace that lay against my shirt and traced the grooves of the charm with her fingertips.

"What's this?" She asked softly.

"St. Jude. Patron saint of lost causes." I answered.

She continued to stare down at it, turning the charm over and over in her thin fingers.

"You're not a lost cause." She said so quietly, I couldn't be sure that's what she really said.

I stared at her face, memorizing the way her pensive look creased her beautiful features, and wished she were right.

Her eyes met mine again, and I could almost see the exact moment when something snapped into place in her mind. She pulled herself up abruptly, effectively bursting the bubble it felt like we had been in. She sat back toward the foot of her bed, and folded her legs under her.

She cleared her throat and looked at her hands, pulling at the end of her comforter. "Um, so I'm 99.9% sure I wasn't drunk last night, so… what are you doing in my bed?"

"You fell asleep on the couch. I carried you in here, but when I went to put you down, you kind of grabbed me. And you told me to stay. So I did."

I didn't want to tell her what really compelled me to stay. I didn't want to bring up potentially painful things; she 'd already ripped open old wounds to show me her scars yesterday. That was enough for now.

I sat up and sat crossed legged across from her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I mean, I should've just left, but-"

"No Edward, it's okay. Really." She looked up at me and smiled humorously. "When I attack you and order you to do something, I expect nothing less than for you to do as I say."

I shook my head at her and couldn't hold back from laughing. Bella always found a way to joke about everything; it was one of her best _and_ worst qualities.

She hopped off the bed and looked at me. "So, how do turkey sandwiches sound?"

I stood up and walked to meet her at the foot of the bed. "Like my favorite post-Thanksgiving breakfast."

She turned and I followed her toward the kitchen. "Me too. And since your brother stole Alice from me yesterday, I should have enough leftovers for a week."

"I'd be more than happy to help you out with those."

She laughed while she pulled the leftover containers out of the fridge. "I'm going to need it."

We made and ate our sandwiches, and Bella put on a pot of coffee before we went out for a cigarette. Her cat came out on the windowsill and sat down. I snapped my fingers and clicked my tongue at him. Bella started laughing.

"What?"

"He won't come out. He's agoraphobic."

"He's a cat."

"I know. You should see him, though. He sees me even reaching for the carrier, and he shits his pants. That's as far outside as he'll come without force." She pointed toward Paul on the sill. "Head case." She scoffed.

"Well, he's definitely your cat then."

She jabbed my arm roughly with her elbow. "Hey!"

It was funny how different this morning was from the last time we'd woken up in the same place. There was no tension, no impending difficult discussions. It was just Bella and me, just two friends, hanging out.

"There's this thing next Friday. My dad's supposed to go, but he can't, because he has surgery that day. So he's making me go in his place. I was hoping you'd save me from being completely bored shitless, and come with me?" I asked her as I was leaving a little while later.

I really didn't want to go to this charity thing anymore than I wanted to get my teeth pulled out of my head, but the idea of having Bella there with me made it seem almost endurable.

She bit her lip and said simply, "Work."

"All work and no play." I joked, trying not to show the disappointment on my face.

"It gets the bills paid." She retorted.

I nodded. "That's true. It sucks for me, though."

"Oh, stop being so negative. You'll have no problem finding some hot bombshell to go with you."

"Yeah, but no one as fun as you."

She rolled her eyes. "Guilt trips don't work on me."

I sighed exasperatedly. "Fine. Stomp all over my heart. See if I care." I stuck my tongue out at her.

She shook a finger at me sternly. "Keep that tongue ring in your mouth, mister, or else something really unfortunate is going to happen to you."

"If you're thinking what I'm thinking, then I don't really consider that unfortunate." I said, wiggling my eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes at me again. "And, that's my cue. Goodbye, gutter mind."

Without another word, she turned back into her apartment and shut the door. I laughed out loud to myself as I crossed the hall. There was no one else on the planet like that woman.

*

**BPOV**

The first Friday in December, a charity event was being held at a hotel near Central Park. A lot of wealthy men were in town to attend, and Alice and I were both booked to accompany two businessmen to the gala. I was kind of excited.

Alice and I rarely ever got to actually work together. Especially now, with my inexplicably elusive numbness, having her there with me would make things a lot easier. Alice was my rock.

And, as much as I hated to admit it, I actually loved getting dressed up. I hated it when Alice insisted I wear a pound of makeup and short dresses when we went out, because I really didn't see the need for it. But when I went to formal events like this one, I loved spending time making myself look glamorous. I didn't get to do it often, and I'd never been to prom or anything even close. It was kind of a false sense of nostalgia for me.

When I got to the hotel that Friday evening, I asked the front desk for the room key Mr. Newton had left for me and made my way up to the suite. When I got into the room, my eyes quickly found the heap of red material laid careful across the white bedspread. I walked over to the bed, and idly noted the suitcases on the side of the bed. Mr. Newton had already been here, obviously. I picked the dress up off of the bed to admire it.

It was knee length, with a red bodice and a burgundy A-line skirt. The waist was banded, and the skirt gathered in the front, as did the bodice. The one shoulder sleeve had a draping detail, and was cinched at the top by a pearl broach. It was a beautiful dress. It wasn't exactly my taste, and definitely not something I would've picked out for myself, but nonetheless, it was lovely.

I did my hair and makeup before getting into the dress. I pulled my hair into a low, loose chignon bun at the nape of my neck to cover my tattoo. I left a few curled strands hanging in the front to frame my face. I applied eyeliner and mascara, with a little nude eye shadow and red lipstick. Simple, but elegant.

When I had just about finished getting ready, I heard the door to the suite open. I stepped out of the bathroom to meet my client.

In my tall black heels, he was just a few inches taller than me. I guessed he couldn't be older than twenty-five. His face was cute and boyish, still obtaining some roundness to his cheeks. He had sandy blonde hair fixed in neat spikes in the front, and an impish glint in his baby blue eyes. He was attractive and young, and from his awkward stance, I guessed this was his first time hiring a call girl.

"You are one beautiful woman." He said exasperatedly.

"Thanks." His eyes raked over me, and to my surprise, I found myself growing uncomfortable. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, trying to be stealthy about it. "And you have exquisite taste, Mr. Newton." I said motioning languidly down my body.

"Well, I imagine anything would look great on a woman like you." He smiled timidly. "And you can call me Mike."

"Sophia." I said, sticking out my hand.

He took it in his and kissed the back, just like I knew he would. "Sophia." He straightened. "Um, so, I just have to change into my suit, and then we can head down to the ballroom."

"Perfect."

He walked past me toward the bedroom, looking me up and down slowly with wide eyes as he passed. When he was out of sight, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. _Get yourself together. What the hell is wrong with you?_ My heart was racing and my stomach was rolling unnervingly. I was acting like I did my first day on the job. _You've been doing this for three years, for Fuck's sake!_ I took another deep breath and opened my eyes. I would get through this. I was a professional.

Mike came back out, dressed in a classic black suit and white tie, and I took his arm as we left the room. We met his friend, and Alice's client, Tyler Crowley in the lobby outside of the ballroom. Mr. Crowley was a tall, dark man, with curly black hair and a glowing white smile. I surmised that he and Mike were the same age, and that this, too, was his first time with a call girl.

Alice looked beautiful in the dress Mr. Crowley had picked out for her. It was chocolate brown with spaghetti straps. The bodice was beaded, and the skirt, which started just below her busts, frayed down to mid thigh. On her feet was a pair of sky-high cream stilettos that made her almost as tall as I would be on flat feet. Her hair was pinned up in perfect curls, and her makeup was, as usual, flawless.

"Hello, Rachel." I said to her when we approached them.

"Sophia." She greeted me back with a smile.

She put her hand in the crook of Mr. Crowley's arm and the four of us filed into the ballroom.

The hall was big and white, and incredibly spacious. To the left, there were at least fifty red clothed round tables, and each one was big enough to seat ten. To the right was a large expanse of beautiful wooden beams to be used as a dance floor. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling in regular intervals, and there was a podium set up at the front of the room, adorned with a banner sporting the name of the charity. Tall, rounded top windows lined each side of the room, and French doors led off of the dance floor to a large balcony. The place was gorgeous.

We mingled around the room for a while, Mike and Tyler talking to people they knew, toting us around like arm candy. It didn't faze me; I was used to it. After a bit, Mike excused himself to go grab us glasses of champagne from one of the servers. I was glad. Normally, I wouldn't drink when I was out with a client, but tonight, I felt like I needed it.

"Tyler, look who's here!" I heard Mike shout from somewhere behind me.

Before I turned toward the sound of his voice, I caught a glimpse of Alice's face. It was contorted in horror, and her eyes, wide and alarmed like a deer in the headlights, were fixed over my shoulder. I whipped around, and as soon as I did, I wanted to run away.

I felt like my stomach dropped out of my body, my heart jumped into my throat, and the breath whooshed from my lungs all at once. I felt like dying. I wanted to dissolve into thin air.

Mike was walking toward us, with his arm slung around a man a few inches taller than him. A man in a perfectly cut suit. A man with tousled bronze hair and piercing green eyes, and an expression of complete bewilderment on his beautiful face as he stared straight at me.

Edward Cullen.

*

**Cliffhanger!**

**Links to Bella and Alice's dresses in my profile.**

***Hides in corner* Okay, so please don't hate me, but I may not be able to get another chapter up until mid/late next week. I have a busy weekend, plus this next chapter is probably the most pivotal one so far. It will be long and there will be a lot of dialogue, so I want to make sure I get it perfect. Leave me reviews and I will see you all as soon as possible!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my lovely readers! I know I was supposed to have this up last week, and I'm sorry it's late. I hope you'll forgive me.**

**By the way, I went to see New Moon yesterday. I have to say, I was NOT disappointed. It was so amazing! If you haven't gone to see it yet, I strongly suggest you do. I'm a way bigger fan of the books than of the films, but New Moon was so true to the book. Kristen Stewart's acting was just phenomenal; she made me cry like a baby. She's seriously my girl crush. GO SEE NEW MOON!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its fuckhawt characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*

**BPOV**

I swallowed convulsively as Edward and Mike walked toward us. They seemed to be moving in slow motion, and it was agonizing. With every step he took, Edward's expression grew even more confused. With every step he took, my heartbeat picked up, beating faster and faster until I thought it would leap right out of my chest. I was terrified, and yet, I still found myself in awe at how beautiful he looked in his charcoal gray suit. He looked like he just stepped off the set of a GQ cover shoot.

When they reached us, Tyler stepped forward to embrace Edward in a man hug. "I don't believe it! Edward Cullen. How've you been? I haven't seen you in years."

Edward patted his back noncommittally, his eyes never leaving me. "I'm good."

I shifted my eyes to Alice anxiously, desperate to escape his penetrating eyes. Alice's eyes were still frozen wide and locked on Edward. I returned my gaze to him just in time to catch him following my glance to Alice. His eyebrows knit together even more, to the point where they almost seemed to become one. He looked back to me, questions burning in his emeralds.

Mike must've noticed the loaded glances, because he chose that moment to jump in. "Do you two know each other?"

Edward opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. "No, not at all." Edward's eyes narrowed skeptically.

"Well, ladies, this is my old friend Edward Cullen." Mike said.

I reached out and grabbed his hand from where it hung at his side, shaking it. I looked straight into his eyes, hoping he would be able to see the pleading in mine.

"I'm Sophia. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Cullen." His top lip twitched and his eyes narrowed even more. I could see the frustration taking over confusion as the dominant emotion on his face.

I had to actually use effort to pull my hand from his grasp. After I yanked my hand away as stealthily as I could manage, his hand just stayed there in the same position, hanging in midair. His eyes were intense and probing.

Alice grabbed his hand then, and he shifted his eyes to look down at her, releasing mine for the moment.

"I'm Rachel." Alice said sweetly, but I knew her well enough to hear the tension in her voice.

"Sophia and Rachel?" Edward said hoarsely, looking back and forth between the two of us.

"Yes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cullen." Alice answered.

Mike moved to my side and put his hand on the small of my back, a little lower than was necessary. I jumped at the sudden contact amidst the extreme tension that had built up in my muscles. I didn't miss the way Edward's eyes flashed when they flickered to Mike's arm.

"What've you been up to, Cullen?"

"I don't think I've seen you since the summer after graduation." Tyler added.

"Yeah, I know." Edward answered, and finally tore his gaze away from me to look at the guys. I folded my arms across my chest and gnawed on my bottom lip, all tension.

"Uh, me and Rose opened up an auto body business in Brooklyn. I just moved into my own place. So, yeah, everything's…everything's great." Edward's eyes seemed to flick back to me every time he blinked.

"That's awesome, Edward. I'm happy for you man." Tyler said.

"Thanks."

"So, you're living in New York now, huh? When did you move out here?"

"Like five years ago."

"Huh. What about Tanya? I bet you two are still together, right?" Mike asked.

It made no sense, given the situation, but a wave of annoyance spread through me at Mike's question. _Who the hell is Tanya?_ Obviously his ex-girlfriend. And apparently, they had been pretty serious, if Mike had expected them to still be together. _Am I… _jealous_?_

"No. Tanya and I broke up a few years back."

"Really? I thought you guys would be together forever."

Edward shrugged. "Guess not. Look… I have to go out for a smoke. I'll see you later." He half turned his body to walk away.

"Want me to come out with you?" Mike asked. "I mean, dude, it's been years. We have some catching up to do."

"Maybe some other time, okay? I just… I really have to go." He said as he backed away from us.

"All right." Mike answered, confused. "Later."

With one last, hard look at me, Edward turned around and strode briskly away from us, out the open doors.

Alice grabbed my arm and leaned into me. "You go do damage control. I'll hold down the fort." She whispered.

I nodded at her and turned to Mike with what I hoped was a smile. "I'm going to go freshen up."

"Don't be too long." He said low in my ear.

"I'll be fast." His hand slid down my back and he palmed my ass as I walked away.

As soon as I was out the doors and into the lobby, I whipped my head around frantically, searching. I caught sight of a flash of bronze and gray disappearing behind the door to the stairwell. I ran toward the door, almost barreling straight into a group of women as I did so, and yanked it out of my way. Just as I got inside the stairwell, I saw the minute light from the floor below diminish with a subsequent slam of the heavy metal door. _Damn, that man is fast_.

In that moment, I was glad the party was taking place on the second floor of the hotel and not the umpteenth. I ran down the steps to the bottom landing, taking the steps two at a time. I really shouldn't have been doing that, and I was lucky I didn't go tumbling to my death.

There were two doors at the bottom of the stairwell, and I chose the one to my right, figuring he would've went outside rather than into the main lobby of the hotel. I burst through the door into the alley and looked around. Sure enough, I was right. He was several feet ahead of me, stalking off toward the street, one hand shoved in his hair.

"Edward!" I called, running after him as fast as I could in my heels. "Edward, wait!"

His stride slowed, but he didn't stop walking. I finally caught up to him, panting loudly. "Edward, look, I can-"

He turned around abruptly and closed the last few feet between us. "What the fuck was that?"

I flinched back from the force of the fuming anger on his face. It was the first time I'd ever seen him this angry, the first time he'd ever raised his voice to me.

"I'm sorry. I know you weren't expecting to see me here, and I-"

He snorted. "No, I _was_ expecting to see you here. Or at least, I wanted to." I furrowed my eyebrows. "With me. I asked you to come here last week."

My eyebrows shot up. I felt so guilty. "Here? This is… fuck!" I finished quietly.

"What are you doing here, Bella? And who the fuck is Sophia? That's the second time I've heard you being called by that name, and I want to know why."

"Look, I promise I'll explain everything later. I just need you to go along with it for right now."

"Go along with it? So, pretend I don't know who you are?"

"Yes." I said evenly.

He looked at me in disbelief. "You're serious? What the fuck is going on?"

"I will tell you everything, but not right now, okay? I just need you to-" _Trust me_. I couldn't say it. The words got stuck in my throat. I recovered, clearing my throat. "I need you to be patient and go along with this. Please."

His eyes widened. "Bella-"

"For me. Edward, please."

He ran his hand through his hair. "You'll tell me everything?"

"Later." I nodded.

He stared at me for a long moment, his forehead creased in agitation, his eyes smoldering, even in the poorly lit alley. Then, he exhaled loudly and shook his head infinitesimally, as if to clear it. He suddenly started undoing the buttons on the front of his suit jacket, then pulled his arms out of the sleeves. He walked over and draped it over my shoulders.

"You should get inside. You're going to get sick, standing out here dressed like that." His voice was bleak, and as freezing cold as the air outside.

I hadn't even realized how raw the air was; I had been too busy concentrating on getting to Edward. I shivered reflexively.

"Come on." He put his hand on my back and urged me toward the door.

Instead of drawing back, I leaned into the contact of his hand on me. I glanced up at his face; I'd never seen him like this before, but I could read the emotions on his face as well as if they were my own. His eyes were locked forward, cold and hard as stones; his jaw was clenched tight, and his nostrils were flared ever so slightly. It was too controlled. Rigid. He was beyond angry. I quickly looked away from his face, recoiling from his severe expression.

When we got into the stairway, I started up the stairs, expecting him to follow. I stopped when I realized the only footsteps I heard were my own. I turned around and looked down at him where he stood, at the foot of the stairs, one hand shoved in his hair. His other hand was gripping the railing, and he was looking up at me. It was too dark to see his expression.

"Aren't you coming?" My voice echoed through the vacant space, lingering deafeningly in the long silence that followed.

"No." He said finally, low and breathy. "I already turned in my father's donation. I can't just be there and-" He exhaled in a frustrated huff. He didn't make a move to finish his sentence.

I chewed my bottom lip. "Okay. Ah, I guess I'll see you at home." I shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to him.

He snapped his head up to look at me levelly. "Yeah, you will." It was almost threatening. He took his jacket and turned to open the door.

The obscured moonlight from outside gleamed silver beams on his copper tresses. He glanced back at me once more, and then he was gone. The door slammed shut, loud and resonate in the empty stairwell, taking the light with it. All he left behind was a cold gust of wind, and darkness. I shuddered, and turned to make my way back up to the benefit, feeling strangely off balance.

*

Alice, Tyler, and Mike had already taken their seats at a table when I got back upstairs. Mike stood up and pulled the chair out for me to sit down, while Alice cocked a worried eyebrow. I pointedly kept my eyes on the tablecloth.

Throughout the rest of the evening, I tried to keep a fake smile on my face, to keep up appearances. I smiled my way through the speeches and the auction, clapping when necessary, laughing when appropriate.

When it was time for dinner, I pushed my food around the plate rather than eat it. My stomach was in knots. If someone happened to look at me, though, I would take a small bite just to keep them from asking. From the wavering looks Alice shot me, I guessed I wasn't doing a very good job of acting normal. It seemed fitting, since every time I tried to smile, it felt like a grimace.

As much as I tried to keep my focus on the task at hand –my job- my mind had other ideas. My thoughts kept wandering back to Edward; the look on his face when he first saw me here, the anger in his voice when I caught up with him outside. And worse, what the fuck was I going to tell him? I knew he would most likely be at my door first thing in the morning, demanding an explanation. How was I supposed to tell him that I was a call girl?

Or _would I_ even tell him?

I knew he deserved the truth, but I was selfish. I proved that when I told him I couldn't be with him, but that I still wanted him in my life. And I would prove that selfishness again if I could, because I didn't want him to hate me.

I found myself trying to scrape up some passable excuse to tell him. But I wasn't a very good liar, and I was coming up blank. Maybe this was my subconscious telling me to stop hiding from myself. Edward was in my life now, I had forced him to be a part of my life, and now I needed to give him the choice. Being truthful was my only option, and I hated it.

After the benefit was over, Mike and I took the elevator up to the hotel room. His hands were all over me as soon as the door closed, his lips kissing my neck, his hands moving up and down my sides, pushing me back toward the bed. It took a lot of effort for me to pretend to be into it.

Being with Mike was hard, not only because my numbness was completely nonexistent as of late, but because he knew Edward. That connection that he had to him, however they knew each other, made me feel guilty for some reason I couldn't explain.

His hands felt too rough on me, squeezed me too tight. His breath was hot and uncomfortable on my face and neck. His actions were too fast and drilling as he moved over me, hasty, like a jackrabbit. I had to bite the inside of my cheek just to get myself through it. The only thing that kept me from jumping up and running out of the room was the fact that this was my job, and I had to do it. It was an appalling experience, because I felt it too completely. I faked my way through an orgasm, and as soon as we were done, I pulled on my street clothes, got my cash, and left.

*

It was only just before three in the morning when I got off the subway, and I was grateful that I would get a few good hours of sleep before having to face Edward. The ride home gave me some time to clear my head and think, but I could still find no solution other than telling him the truth. I knew it was the right thing to do, and I was scared, but determined to do it.

The elevator doors slid open in front of me, and for a second, I honestly considered pressing the button to bring me back down to the lobby. I took a deep breath and stepped into the fourth floor hallway, looking at the floor as I walked. I heard an exasperated sigh, and my steps faltered because I recognized the sound. I raised my head, and thoroughly wasn't expecting what awaited me.

Still in his suit, but significantly more disheveled, Edward sat on the hallway floor with his back pressed against the wall, next to my door. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him, arms resting against his knees, his suit jacket strewn on the floor beside him. He had his tie loosened and his white shirt untucked from his pants, the top two buttons undone. His hair was even more of a mess than usual; my guess was it was from pulling his fingers through it repeatedly.

He looked so fucking sexy, it would've been damn near impossible to resist grabbing him by the hair and pulling him into my apartment, if not for one thing. The look on his face was livid. The anger he had controlled earlier was now plain and in full force on his face.

I studied the floor intently as I walked around him to my door, feeling his eyes on me. In my peripheral vision, I saw him get to his feet. I pulled my keys out of my bag and concentrated on unlocking the door.

"Okay. Let's talk." He said.

"Can't this wait until morning? It's late, and I'm tired. I don't feel up to talking right-"

He scoffed. "You're _tired_? I chain smoked my way through a pack and a half of cigarettes, sat in this hallway waiting for you to get home for hours, all the while having to think about what you could possibly be doing with Mike fucking Newton of all people, and now you're _not up_ to talking? Too fucking bad."

I knew he had every right to be angry, but his antagonism set me off. I whipped around to face him. "What the fuck do you care, anyways?"

*

**EPOV**

I barked a laugh at her. Was she serious? _What the fuck did I care?_

"You know exactly why I care. Now, who the hell is Sophia?"

"Keep your voice down!" She hissed. I glared at her for a moment, then shoved past her into her apartment. "Sure, Edward, come on in." I heard her mumble as she followed me in and shut the door.

I walked into the living room, dropped my jacket on the couch, and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting. I heard her drop her keys with a 'clank' into the little bowl on the hallway table. She came into the living room, and dropped her purse on to the coffee table. Without a glance, she walked past me, hooking her heels off her feet and putting them into the closet. She finally turned toward me, her hands working the pins out of her hair, her face wary.

"Start talking." I said.

She sighed and her hands dropped from her hair. "I don't know where to start."

"You told me you couldn't go with me because you had to work. Start there."

She ran a hand through her hair, raking it out of its stiff style to hang wildly around her face. "I wasn't lying. That was the truth."

"But you were there." I pointed out.

"I was. _Working_."

"I don't understand." I said, shaking my head.

"I know." She whispered.

I walked forward and put my hands on her shoulders. Her crumpled stature was depleting my anger. Now, I was just painfully curious. I _needed_ to know.

"Then help me understand."

She looked up at me, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth. "I don't want you to hate me."

"That's not going to happen."

She scoffed. "You say that now." She pushed my hands off her shoulders and started pacing across the room.

I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the anger that was building back up in my chest at her evasiveness.

"How do you know Mike?" I asked her slowly.

She stopped pacing, and stood with her back toward me, looking out the window into the blackened night. "I just met him tonight. How do you know him?"

"We went to high school together."

"Ah." She said.

"You just met him tonight, but you were at the benefit with him." This was starting to feel like pulling teeth.

"Yes." Her back was still to me.

I was getting more and more aggravated with her short, nondescript answers. I walked over and put my hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face me.

"Bella, you're giving me nothing here." I ran a hand through my hair, for what felt like the billionth time that night. "Okay. Who is Sophia?"

"Sophia is me. It's my… working… name." She said carefully.

_Working name?_ "So, what? Are you, like, an undercover cop? A PI? Witness protection program? What?"

She snorted and looked down at the floor. "Wrong side of the law."

I sighed in frustration and put a finger under her chin, urging her to meet my eyes. "Bella."

She stared into my eyes for a long moment, contemplating. The fear in her eyes made my stomach turn uneasily. Suddenly, she ripped her chin from my hand and walked as far away from me as the room allowed. She turned to face me, but kept her head down, eyes on her bare feet. I watched her shoulders rise and fall as she took a deep breath, and then cleared her throat. When she finally looked up again, she squared her shoulders, and looked straight at me. I could tell she was trying to put on a determined face, but she just looked nervous.

"Edward, I'm a call girl." She said quietly.

It felt like the world had stopped spinning on its axis, like everything stopped in that moment._ Call girl_. That was a fancy way of saying hooker. _Bella just told me that she is a hooker_.

Even though her voice was quiet, her sentence hung in the air between us, heavy and poignant, deafening in the silence that followed. My mind was in a complete stupor, trying to comprehend the words she just said, but not being able to piece them together in a way that made sense.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. No, it didn't make sense. Bella was the most self-protective, guarded, defensive person I knew. Having sex with guys for money didn't fit into that formula. I tried to change the equation around in my head, trying to make it fit, but nothing I did could make it add up to the answer she was presenting me with.

I looked at her face carefully, studied it, searching for any trace of humor. _Maybe she was just fucking with me_. But there was nothing there but fear and pleading.

She was serious.

Bella had sex for money. And tonight, she had been at the benefit with Mike Newton.

"So after I just saw you, you… you just… you slept with him? You had sex with Mike Newton… for money?"

She nodded, and I couldn't stand the images that invaded my mind. "I-I can't handle this." I had to get out of there. I turned and started to walk away from her.

"Edward, you can't just leave!" She shouted. The frantic desperation in her voice made me stop. "You wanted to talk, and I'm talking. You can't just walk away!"

I slowly turned back to face her, but I didn't make a move to get any closer. I squeezed the bridge of my nose between my thumb and finger, and closed my eyes tightly, hating the images that flashed behind them. I didn't want to think of his hands on her body or his lips on her skin. Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I swallowed it down. It felt like lead.

"I'm sorry." I heard her say quietly.

I opened my eyes, and she was looking down at the floor. Her shoulders were slumped, her face defeated. I hated the pain that twisted in my chest at seeing her like that. I shouldn't be the one feeling sorry, but it wasn't a choice. My feet started moving, bringing me closer to her without me ever having consciously decided to go to her.

When I got to her, my hand twitched to reach out and touch her, pull her into my arms, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just stood there in front of her, clenching and unclenching my fingers at my sides. She looked up at me, her milk chocolate eyes troubled and beseeching.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want an explanation." I said, low and firm. I was surprised at how much anger was in my voice, how tight and constricted my throat felt.

"You got your explanation. I was there tonight because Mike Newton was my client. I was his… escort."

I shook my head, inwardly cringing at the detached voice she used when talking about it, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. A business deal, and nothing more.

"I want you to stop lying to me."

Her chin raised a fraction at my tone, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "I _never_ lied to you."

"Really? You told me you worked at a nightclub in Manhattan, when actually, you sleep with men for money. Where exactly is the truth in that?" The anger was pumping through me now, spewing brutally from my mouth. I flinched as the words came out, and so did she.

"That's the only thing I've ever lied about. I've been completely honest with you otherwise, Edward, you have to believe me."

"Oh, well, as long as it was only that _one little thing_." I said sarcastically. "So you're secretly a prostitute? Who cares; as long as you're truthful about everything else."

She bristled at that. "I'm not a prostitute. I'm a call girl."

"What's the difference?" I spat bitterly. I shook my head and put a hand through my hair. "Fuck, Bella, do you know how dangerous that is?" As angry as I was at her for lying to me, that did nothing to diminish the fact that I cared about her.

"Look, it's not like I'm standing on the side of the road every night, flagging down random cars and giving blowjobs behind dumpsters. I work for an agency. They screen the clients before they book them for us. It's safe."

I gaped. "Safe? What about STDs? Getting pregnant? Have you even fucking considered-"

"I get tested once a month. I always use condoms, and I'm on the pill."

"So what if one of those guys decides they want to do more than just have sex with you, huh? You don't know who the fuck you're dealing with. Bella, what if someone decides to use you as a punching bag? You could be fucking killed!"

"I can take care of myself." She said stubbornly.

"DO YOU HAVE A FUCKING DEATHWISH?!" I screamed. She flinched back.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella's cat jump off the couch and dart across the room to hide under the bed. I had to remind myself that it was the middle of the night, and people were sleeping. It took a lot of effort to try and keep my voice down.

She looked at me evenly. "No. I do not." Her voice was venomous.

"Well, you could've fooled me." I hissed back.

She shook her head at me. "You're impossible."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying, however minutely, to control my temper. "How long?" I asked.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been doing… that?"

"Three years."

My eyes widened. "Three years?"

She nodded. "Since I first came to New York, when I was eighteen."

"Why do you do it? Why do you let guys use your body just to make money?"

She just shook her head. "So, you moved 2000 miles from home to start over on your own, to make a better life for yourself. And what? The better life you had in mind included having sex for money? Is that what you dreamed about doing?"

"No, it wasn't my intention coming here to become a hooker, thank you very much." She spat. "It just happened."

I stared at her incredulously. "How exactly does a person just _fall into_ that profession?"

"I was a waitress when I first came here. I was out at a club one night, and a guy approached me about becoming an escort. The money is great, the hours are flexible, so I said yes." She shrugged, like it made perfect sense. Like it was that simple. I knew better.

"Bella… you are smart and beautiful and _young_. You're only 21 fucking years old. Do you really think this is the best thing for you to be doing with your life? There are a million other things you could do. You shouldn't waste yourself doing something so… so degrading, and lawless. You're better than that. You owe yourself better than that."

She laughed without humor. "You know nothing about who I am or what I'm worth, Edward. Don't kid yourself."

"You know what, if you're so fucking determined to exploit your body, why didn't you just move out to LA and start doing porn, huh?"

"Edward, you know as well as I do that life isn't all sunshine and fucking butterflies, okay? It's cold, and cruel, and jading, and unfair. The people who are supposed to love and protect you, don't. The ones you rely on, leave. And if you hold out hope, you'll only be let down time and time again until you realize that the only person who you can really depend on is yourself. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you'll be."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked, taken aback by her seemingly random outburst.

A strange expression crossed her features. Her eyebrows furrowed, her lips stretched taut, and she swallowed hard. It was almost like she was going to be sick.

"Sometimes, you have to do what's necessary to get control of your life. It's as simple as that." She turned her face away from me.

"And how exactly does having sex for money help you gain control of your life?"

She shook her head. "You don't understand."

"No. I don't. That's the point. _Let me_ understand."

"I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

She was silent for a second. "You know what, maybe you were right. Maybe you should just go." She said suddenly.

"_I_ can't. Because believe it or not, I care about you. And you owe me an explanation."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "_Owe_ you? How the hell do I _owe you_ anything? I was perfectly fine before I met you. I was at peace with my life, I was okay, and then-" She cut herself off, shaking her head, seething. "You are so fucking frustrating."

I laughed without humor. "Oh, okay, so _you're_ frustrated? I'm so sorry about that." I threw my hands up at my sides in exasperation. "I walk into that ballroom tonight, thinking I'm going to drop off my Dad's donation check, talk to some pretentious businessmen about things I don't give a rat's ass about, eat some good food, and leave. And then, I see you and Alice, with two guys I went to high school with, calling yourselves Sophia and Rachel, and pretending you have no idea who I am. On top of that, I'd actually asked you to come to that same benefit with me, and you refused. And now, you're turning this whole thing over to make an asshole out of me for _caring_ about you. Now, can't you see why _I'm_ just a little fucking frustrated?"

Panic filled her eyes suddenly. "I know. But, Edward, you can't tell Jasper."

This was the missing link, I realized. This was the facet of their relationship, the quiet closeness that I didn't understand before. Bella trusted Alice so implicitly because they were both hiding the same secret, both living the same lie. They were in it together.

I scoffed. "Are you serious? What kind of brother would I be if I didn't tell him that the girl he's dating is a hooker?"

Her voice was frantic now. "You have to let Alice tell him herself. Please. She's been planning on telling him, I swear she has. Give her the chance to plead her case to him. Please, Edward. Alice really cares about Jasper."

"When was she planning on telling him?"

"Soon."

I nodded and folded my arms over my chest. "And when were you planning on telling me?"

She bit her lip and looked down. My eyes went wide as understanding washed over me. "You weren't." I stated. It wasn't a question. She shook her head, eyes still on the floor.

I laughed bitterly and started pacing, running my hands over my face, through my hair, and back again. "You weren't even going to tell me. I can't believe it." I said it more to myself than to her.

"You don't understand." She plead.

I turned on her, shouting, angry. "You keep saying that, Bella. 'You don't understand, you don't understand.' Then make me fucking understand! I can't understand unless you fucking explain it to me."

My yelling set her off, and her face turned red with anger. "I don't have an obligation to you. You're not my boyfriend, Edward. You're not my father… hell, we're tentative friends, at best!"

"You're really going to pull that card? We're barely even friends? Then what the fuck are we, huh? Tell me!" I clenched my fists at my side. "I thought… no, I _know_ that I felt something real and palpable between us. I wanted you from the moment we met, and when you told me it couldn't be like that between us, I accepted it. I kept being your friend because that's all you could give me, and I never complained. After all that, you didn't even give me the courtesy of _considering_ telling me the truth?"

"Don't make me sound like such a cold-hearted bitch, okay? I thought endlessly about telling you. But there are things that you can't even begin to understand, and I can't even begin to talk about. You don't understand because you _can't_. My priority is to myself first, and I won't rip myself open for you."

"Your priority is to yourself? Yeah, Bella, you take real good care of yourself. Look at the fulfilling career you've gotten yourself into."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not. I'm stating facts. You're not doing yourself any favors, Bella. Unless you're hell bent on self-destruction."

"This has nothing to do with self-destruction."

"Really?" I grabbed her left arm and pulled it between us, turning her forearm upward. I jabbed at her arm. The scars weren't very visible, but her eyes widened, and I could tell she knew exactly what I was meaning to point out. "You seem pretty well practiced in the art of hurting yourself."

She jerked her arm away and pulled it to her chest. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw the scars."

Her face morphed into a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. "That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, because you don't have to take a blade to your arm anymore, you just demean yourself with meaningless sex for money. Good trade." I spat.

She shot me a glare and turned her head to the side, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"What do you think your father would say about this?" I said. I knew that was hitting below the belt, and I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Bella's face contorted in pain and anguish, and fury flashed in her eyes.

"You have no right to bring him into this."

I faltered. "Bella, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone there."

She shook her head fiercely. "No, Edward, you aren't. You're not sorry."

"I just want you to think about what you're doing."

"You don't think I have? I've been doing this for three years. I came to terms with what I am and what I do a long time ago." She said curtly.

"So what you are is a prostitute? I'm sorry, a 'call girl'." I formed air quotes with my fingers. "That's how you define yourself, and you're okay with that? You're _proud_ of that?" I scoffed.

"This is my life, Edward. I'm going to do what I want with it. You don't agree with it? That's fucking fine with me. I don't need you to be in my life. And I definitely don't want or need your God damn approval, or anyone else's for that matter."

"Even though what you apparently _want to do_ is just open your legs to any guy who comes along to make a quick buck? That's really pathetic."

Her face grew livid, and suddenly my head was snapping to the side as her fist collided with my jaw. She didn't smack me; she full on punched me in the face. I was surprised at how much it hurt. She must've put some real force behind it.

I turned my face back to her, rubbing my jaw with my hand, eyes wide in surprise.

"You're such a fucking bastard." She hissed at me.

"And you're a _slut_." I said scathingly, spitting the last word at her.

Her eyes popped wide for a second, then almost as quickly, they narrowed. "Get. Out." She said, low and angry.

Without a word, I turned and strode down the hallway. I yanked the door open, and shot a glance over my shoulder. Bella was standing at the end of the hallway, staring after me. She was completely enraged, but there was something else, some other emotion in her eyes. The sides of her mouth were turned down, a deep worry line creasing between her eyebrows. It almost looked as if she were going to cry, and for a split second, I was torn. But I was angry, so I looked away from her and walked out the door, slamming it behind me.

As I walked away, I heard a loud crash coming from inside her apartment. Even though part of me wanted to, I didn't go back to check on her. I didn't even spare her front door a last glance. I didn't even stop walking.

I walked down the hall and to the stairwell. I ran down the four flights of stairs, and into the lobby. I walked out of the lobby, and down the street into the cold, dark, early New York morning. I kept walking.

*

**BPOV**

With that, he was gone. He swept out of my apartment, slamming the door behind him. For the second time that night, he left me, alone and cold.

I grabbed the glass key dish off the hallway table and hurled it across the room. It smashed loudly as it hit the wall, and fell in a million pieces to the carpet below. My keys fell with them. That was going to be a bitch to clean up later, but I'd worry about that tomorrow. I didn't have the mindset to deal with anything right now.

I hated the man who just walked out of my door. That wasn't the Edward I'd know for the past month and a half. That ruthless, hurtful man was a stranger to me.

I was surprised by the force of the pain that came over me, like a giant wave crashing down, abrupt and consuming. The tears started stinging in my eyes before I could even register that the unfamiliar ripping sound assaulting my ears was the sobs coming from my chest. I buried my face in my hands, and suddenly I was sinking to the floor. I pulled my knees tightly to my chest and buried my face in my hands.

I knew I deserved every word he threw at me, every cruel thing he said, but that didn't mitigate the pain it caused. It felt like every word was like its own knife, cutting me deeper with every slice of the blade.

I cried harder than I could remember ever crying, since my father's death. I was shocked by it. Had I really only known him for a month and a half? Then why did he have this effect on me? Why was I overcome by guilt and anger and hurt, from just his words alone?

I don't know how long I sat like that, curled up in a ball, crying my eyes out. When I finally turned my face toward the window, resting my cheek against my knees, the light outside was the dark, pearly blue-gray of predawn. By then, the uncontrollable sobs had all but stopped, though the tears still poured freely down my face.

I watched as the light on the building across the street turned lighter and lighter, then darkened again as the rain clouds infiltrated the sky. Even though I'd been up all night, I didn't feel tired. I don't think I had enough energy to be tired, as crazy as that sounds.

Eventually, Paul came over to me, and started rubbing himself against my legs, telling me it was time for breakfast. It brought me back to reality and the realization that I had to snap out of it. I couldn't let this angry, frustrating pain cripple me. I had responsibilities.

I moved mechanically through the motions of the morning. I got Paul his breakfast. I had no appetite, so I just made coffee for myself. I took a shower and dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, deciding that I wasn't going to get anything done today that required leaving the house.

I decided that I should probably call Alice. Knowing her, she didn't get much more sleep than I did last night. I found my cell phone and dialed her number.

She picked up on the first ring. "Bella? Oh my God, are you okay? Last night was insane. Have you seen Edward?"

"Yeah. He was waiting for me in the hall when I got home."

"Are you crying?" She asked, incredulous and worried at the same time.

I touched my cheek, and was surprised to feel the moisture there. Hmph. I hadn't realized I started crying again.

"I…I…yeah."

"I'm on my way over."

She sounded like she was already making for the door when we hung up. She was worried and anxious, and I understood why. Alice was different from me; she would cry if she scuffed her shoe. But I wasn't a crier –it just wasn't a part of who I was. In all the time she'd known me, I think Alice had seen me cry only once, and that was from the painful story I had been telling her at the time. She knew me better than anyone, and she knew that I was uncharacteristically hurting, and that meant I needed her.

I was sitting on the couch now, and my eyes scanned the room idly as I tried to find something to think about that would stop the tears. I noticed a charcoal gray wad of fabric on the arm of my couch. Apprehensively, I reached over and grabbed it, pulling it into my lap to inspect it. _No, this is definitely not the thing to be thinking about right now. This will not stop the tears._

It was his suit jacket.

I held it in my hands, running my fingers over the fabric, inhaling the scent that came off of it. It smelled just like him, like soap and tobacco, with that inexplicable hint of cinnamon that made my mouth water. I held it close to me, contemplating the way his presence in my life had changed me.

After only about a month and a half of knowing Edward, he had altered me so completely that I felt like my world was turned upside down. Everything was changing, I could feel it. _I can _feel_ it_. That was the biggest change.

Being numb wasn't even an option anymore. I had spent fourteen years perfecting this shield; this action of self-preservation that I thought was the key to my survival. A shield that he was able to effectively tear down in less than two months. Either I wasn't as strong as I had initially though, or the way he effected me was just a lot stronger.

But on top of that, it felt like my insides were literally changing. They were shifting and contorting, to the point where I didn't even recognize myself anymore. My heartbeats felt a little stronger, my stomach a little weaker. I felt lighter and denser at the same time, and it both scared and thrilled me.

I heard a key rattling in the door, and I pushed the jacket under the couch cushion, not wanting Alice to see how pathetic I was. It would just worry her more. I heard her come into the door, and pause in the hallway. She always put her keys in the bowl in the hall when she used them, just like I did. Surely she was wondering where the fuck it was.

She came into the living room, her eyes going straight to me. "Bella, are you okay?" She said concernedly. I could only imagine what I looked like to her right now.

"I don't know." I answered hoarsely.

She put her purse down on the table. "I just took the elevator up with Edward." She said apprehensively, obviously afraid of setting me off.

My head jerked up. "You saw him?"

"Yeah. He looked pretty rough. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was all messed up. It kind of seemed like he was out all night or something."

"Why would you say that?"

"He was still wearing the suit he was in at the benefit."

I furrowed my eyebrows at that. Where had he gone after he stormed out of here this morning? Why was he out all night? Was he hurting as much as I was? Was he sorry?

"How did he look? I-I mean, did he seem… was he-"

"He looked pissed off. Sounded it, too."

"What did he say?"

"Not much, really. The whole ride up was kind of awkward. I was trying to think of something to say, but I didn't know how much he knew, so…" She shrugged. "Then, when we were getting off, he said 'I'm not going to tell Jasper –yet. But if you don't do it soon, I will.' And he just walked away."

I sighed. "That's good. I was worried that he'd tell him before you had the chance to." My voice was just a monotone.

Alice sat down beside me. "So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

I took a deep breath and gave her the rundown of everything that happened, starting with when I left the benefit to chase him down. My voice broke when I told her that he called me a slut and I hit him, and her eyes shifted toward the wall behind me when I told her about the smashing bowl incident.

"I was wondering why he had a bruise on his face." She said nonchalantly.

If I weren't so conflicted, I probably would have smiled from smugness. "He was just… he was so angry. And I know I deserved everything he said, but-" I took a shaky breath. "I didn't even recognize him Alice. He was like a completely different person."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it. He was just overwhelmed and he lost his temper." She soothed.

"He meant it." I shook my head and raked my hands through my hair. "You should've seen his face, Alice. He hates me." I let my hands fall to my thighs with an audible slap. "I knew this was going to happen. I knew he'd hate me."

"Why don't you hate him?"

I looked at her disbelievingly. "Why would I?"

Her eyes widened. "Bella, the things he said to you… the way he talked to you. You have every right to be just as mad at him as he is at you. At least you weren't saying things to hurt him. You hurt him with the truth, but he hurt you because _he could_."

"I _am_ mad at him. He's an asshole, and he needs fucking anger management classes or something. But if I hadn't been so selfish, I wouldn't have been able to hurt him. This is all on me."

"Why do you always do that? You always blame yourself for everything. This isn't _all_ on you Bella. Some of it is, yes. But not all of it."

"You're entitled to your opinion." I said quietly.

Alice sighed and shook her head, but she knew that arguing with me further wouldn't do any good. I was stubborn. "What are you going to do?" She asked.

"I can't really do anything. I told him the truth, right? I can't force him to be okay with it." I paused for a long moment. "Maybe it's better this way. Things were getting too…comfortable."

"It is _not_ better this way. You care about him. He cares about you."

"Yeah? Well both of our lives would be a whole lot simpler if we didn't. So maybe this is our chance to just stop. I can't give him what he wants, anyways. We can both just get on with our lives like it never happened."

"You don't really believe that."

"I want to." I said, a little less firmly than I'd meant it.

Alice shot me a loaded look. "What?" I asked.

"I've just… I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you."

I lost it then. Tears started streaming relentlessly down my face, like a water faucet had just turned on inside of me. Through the tears, I saw Alice's eyes widen, like she was witnessing a car wreck and could do nothing but sit and watch it happen. Her expression only made it worse, and my chest racked uncontrollably, the loud sobs breaking free from my chest. I was trembling with the force of them, and Alice pulled me into her skinny arms.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. Bella, you're going to be okay."

"I don't know why it hurts so much." I whispered through the tears.

Alice held me while I cried, rubbing my back and whispering words of comfort to me. I'd done the same for her a thousand times, but being on the other side of it, I realized just how much it meant for someone to be there for you while you're breaking down. It makes you feel like you're not alone. My love for my best friend, my sister, grew even more in that moment.

After I had gotten myself under control enough to stop sobbing, Alice went to make me some tea. Tea was her cure-all remedy, and I had to admit, it did help most of the time. She sat back down next to me, handing me a mug.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I don't know why I lost it like that. I just…" I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm a mess."

"Yes, you are."

"See, this is why men suck. I'm not even dating the guy, and he already has me moping around like a lost fucking puppy. God, I hate feeling so pathetic."

"You're not pathetic, Bells. You're-"

"Alice Brandon, if you say human, I will rip your scrawny little arms off." She pursed her lips and folded her hands in her lap.

I took a sip of my tea. "So, when are you going to talk to Jasper?" I asked quietly, changing the subject.

"I called him this morning and told him we had to talk. He's going to come over tomorrow afternoon."

"Are you nervous?"

She nodded. "I just really don't want to lose him. I can't imagine what I'll do if he reacts the way Edward did."

"Jasper wouldn't do that."

"What makes you so sure?" She asked, sipping her tea.

"You two have a good thing going. He knows that. It's easy to see how much he cares about you."

"Edward cares about you, and he flipped out." She pointed out.

"You're comparing apples and oranges, here."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I am. You and Jasper have this… you're trying to build something. You're laying the foundation for something that could potentially be really beautiful. And beauty doesn't come without a few bumps in the road, right? If he's worth it, he'll understand."

She shook her head incredulously. "I don't understand how you can be so insightful when it comes to my life, but when it comes to your own, you're Miss Negativity."

"I prefer the term 'cynical'." I joked lamely.

"I'm serious, Bells."

"I'm fine." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine _right now_, at this very moment. But in general, I'm okay." I mulled it over for a second. "You know what, I'm just going to blame all of this over emotional drama queen shit on that time of the month."

"Do you even have your period?"

I glowered at her. "Alice, don't put a damper on my justifications."

Alice stayed for a while, and we both deftly avoided talking anymore about Edward or Jasper. After she left, I went out on to the fire escape to have a cigarette. The day had gotten away from me, and now it was five o'clock, and I was only having my first one. The sweet burn of the smoke in my throat was relieving, and after a few more puffs, I felt lightheaded. I leaned my head back, blowing smoke upward to join the rest of the ominous gray clouds covering the sky. It hadn't started raining yet, but there was supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight. Or maybe snow, since it _was_ December. Fucking global warming.

The raw breeze felt good against my face. It smelled like cold, and dead leaves, and winter. I closed my eyes and leaned into it, pulling my hoodie tighter around me. I sighed at the sensation, getting lost in the feeling of the wind caressing my cheeks and blowing my hair around my face. I tried very hard not to think.

When I opened my eyes, I looked down toward the ground, and wished I hadn't. A spot of bronze caught my eye, and I focused in on it involuntarily. Sure enough, it was Edward, lighting a cigarette as he walked away from the building. He turned his head to look back toward the building, and he was a bit of a distance away, but I could swear he looked up at me. He turned his head back around, and I watched his retreating form until he rounded the corner at the end of the block, disappearing from sight.

My vision became blurry all of a sudden, and I realized that, once again, I was starting to cry. I snubbed out my cigarette, realizing I was pretty much smoking the filter by now, and climbed back into my apartment. I crawled on to my bed and curled up on my side, pulling the covers over me. Paul jumped up on to the bed and kneaded himself into a spot, curling up next to me. I stroked his silky fur while he purred contentedly, and I was plagued with unavoidable thoughts.

What the hell was I going to do? It wasn't like I could avoid seeing him for the rest of my life, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to. He lived right across the hall from me; the distance from my door to his was no more than ten feet. We practically breathed the same air. I was bound to run into him, sooner rather than later, and I preferred not to bawl my eyes out whenever I did. That was ridiculous.

I'd talk to him, I decided. Not right now, of course. I couldn't talk to the man who had left my apartment early this morning. It was impossible. I'd give him a few days to cool off, maybe a week. And that way, I'd give myself time to get over this overly emotional bullshit.

There had to be at least closure for this, if nothing else. I couldn't just leave it the way it was; every tear I cried for him was evidence of that fact. The new, raw emotions in me wouldn't allow it. I needed a goodbye, if it was really the end of this… whatever this was.

So, I'd talk to him, and maybe we could figure this out together.

*

**This chapter killed me. I wanted to end it with a kiss and makeup so BADLY, but it just isn't that simple. Sigh.**

**Next chapter may take a bit to get up. I hope to have it up next week, but seeing as it's Thanksgiving week and I have a ton of stuff to do, I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it up here. So leave me reviews, and I'll see you soon my lovelies!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi guys. I hope you all had a fantastic Thanksgiving, and got nice and fatted on yummy food. I know I did. My Thanksgiving weekend was… hectic… to say the least.**

**Sorry this took so long to get up. Normally, my life is pretty monotonous for the most part, but this past week has been crazy chaotic. On top of all the normal Thanksgiving hustle and bustle, we had a family emergency on Friday night, (well, more like Saturday at 2 in the morning), and I was at the hospital for most of the day Saturday. My older brother and one of his friends were stabbed at a party. I'm happy to say they're both doing good, (as good as you can be doing with stab wounds in you) and my brother was able to come home already. They will both make full recoveries.**

**Seriously, I'm not condoning violence in any way, shape, or form, but if you're going to fight, fight with your fists. Don't take the coward's way out and pull weapons on people. Have some regard for human life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its fuckhawt characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*****

**EPOV**

Darkness of early morning gave way to the light of dawn as I walked aimlessly through the streets. I was trembling with anger, and my feet carried me, blindly, along the sidewalk. I paid no attention to where I was going, had no conception of the amount of time that passed. I just walked.

I barely even noticed how cold it was outside, even though I didn't have a jacket on. My body was hot with the anger that pulsed through me. I absently realized that I must have left my jacket at Bella's. Thinking her name made my chest ache.

It all flashed through my mind at warp speed; her angry voice, the crumpled expression on her face when I walked out the door, her pleading eyes in the ballroom, fabricated images of Mike touching her. They played over and over again in my mind, with no chronology or sense, making my head spin. I had to sit down.

I sat on a bench and leaned my elbows on my knees, dropping my face into my hands.

"_Edward, I'm a call girl."_ Her voice echoed inside my head.

I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to drive out the sound of her voice. It was useless. She was there; since the first time I saw her, she was inside of me, an unshakeable part of me.

I pulled my head from my hands and looked around at my surroundings for the first time. It was light out by now, but not sunny. Dark, ominous clouds plagued the sky, promising one hell of a storm. It seemed fitting. And then I groaned, when I realized where I was. _Great_. I was in the park just a few blocks from my building; the same one Bella and I had gone to the first time we hung out. _How did I even end up here?_ I had been walking for hours, for fuck's sake! I must've been walking in fucking circles.

I sighed, aggravated, and shoved my hand inside my pants pocket for my cigarettes. I pulled the pack out and flipped open the top. Empty. Fuck my life.

I scowled up at the gloomy sky. I must've been a pretty fucking terrible person in my past life to deserve the one I was living now. I hoped someone up there was getting a good kick out of my suffering.

I lifted myself off the bench and left the park, walking in the direction of the convenience store. I checked my watch for the time. It was just after 7 in the morning. I had been out all night, and had nothing to show for it. I was not calmed down; I was just barely keeping my anger under control. And I had nothing figured out except for the fact that I had a lot of fucking thinking to do.

In the store, I asked for two packs of cigarettes out of habit. I quickly corrected myself.

When I got back outside, I unwrapped the cellophane and pulled out a cigarette. I lit it and inhaled a long drag of smoke. I knew, between last night and this morning, I had smoked almost two packs of cigarettes, but I didn't care. I leaned against the side of the store and smoked, not wanting to go back home yet. I wasn't ready. Instead, I thought about the irony of the whole situation I had gotten myself into.

I moved out of my parents' house for a fresh start. I wanted to prove my independence, my resilience, and that I could create healthy relationships for myself. But I just _had_ to meet Bella, had to be drawn in by her, had to care about her. She was about the unhealthiest relationship I could have. She was just as damaged and fucked up as I was, and I think a part of me knew that from the start. Maybe that's part of the reason I was drawn to her in the first place. And even now, even knowing what she did for a living, even as angry as I was with her, the feelings I had for her didn't even falter. _Shit, am I fucked up, or what?_

I shook my head at myself. Everything I ever felt for her was a lie. She wasn't who I thought she was. I had been projecting the Bella I wanted her to be onto her, deluding myself into falling for her. I liked the idea of her more than I actually liked her as a person. Or, at least that's what I was telling myself to try and make it hurt a little less.

The worst part, the thing that killed me the most, was that I actually thought I was starting to _know_ her. I felt like I was not only learning the shell she showed to the world, but also like I was starting to crack the shell, getting a peek inside to the part of her she hid from everyone else. She stole that from me, and it hurt like hell. I was so sure of this… connection, whatever, that we had; and here she was, slapping me in the face and telling me I was wrong. Or more like punching me in the face. I rubbed the left side of my jaw, and winced. That was going to leave a bruise… and not just on my face.

The anger boiled up again inside of me, almost to it's breaking point this time. I whipped around to face the brick wall and drove my hand into it with all my might.

"Hey! Slow down there, tough guy." A middle-aged man in a ball cap shouted at me as he walked by. I glared at him, then walked away.

I just had to be done with her. That was my only option. I had to cut Bella, cold turkey. I had to drop her like a bad habit, because that's what she was becoming, and I couldn't afford another one of those. She was the vice I needed to break before it broke me. I had to quit her, before it got to the point where there was no turning back. In the back of my mind, I wondered if it was already too late.

*

When I got back to the building, I recognized Alice's pixie frame in the lobby, waiting for the elevator. She turned to look at me as I walked in and slammed the heavy wooden door behind me, and I saw her blanch.

"H-hi Edward." She said awkwardly.

I gave her a curt nod and stood behind her, my back pressed against the wall. She turned around to face the elevator doors.

It seemed like it took forever for the elevator to chime and the doors to slide open. I stood opposite her in the elevator, facing forward, not saying a word. I didn't have the control to speak to her steadily at the moment. From my peripheral vision, I saw the tiny woman shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. A few times, she turned her face toward me and opened her mouth as if to speak, but then she just closed it and faced forward again. Finally, the doors opened to let us out on to the fourth floor. When we were both off, I turned to her.

"I'm not going to tell Jasper –yet. But if you don't do it soon, Alice, _I_ will." I turned and walked to my door.

My apartment held no interest for me. It felt more and more like a cage and that much less like a sanctuary with each passing minute. Unlike when I was outside all night, the time inside passed by painstakingly slow. I flipped apathetically through the channels on the TV, and when I felt like a good chunk of time had passed, I'd look at the clock to discover that only minutes had gone by. I was waiting for nothing, but the sluggish passage of time was torturous.

I showered just for something to do. I didn't eat or drink anything; my stomach felt too weak to even think about food. I stared at the TV, out the window, at the fucking walls, and paced divots into the rug. After a few interminable hours, I couldn't stand to be in the house anymore. It felt like the walls were fucking closing in on me. I grabbed my leather jacket from the closet and barreled out the door, not even stopping to lock the deadbolt.

Once I got outside, my breaths came easier. As I was walking away from the building, I stopped to light a cigarette. The hairs on the back of my neck rose suddenly, having nothing to do with the cold, and I had the compulsion to turn around. I looked behind me, but there was nothing there.

I was about to turn back around, and my eyes slid upward idly, when something caught my eye. It was Bella, sitting on her fire escape four floors up, smoking. It was hard to tell from the distance, but it seemed like she was staring right at me. I turned back around, and walked as quickly as I could down the street without running. The farther I got from her, the more I wanted to turn back around.

I walked down the street aimlessly for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. This time, I took what I thought was a different route than I had last night. I walked past a section of one of the streets that was full of stores and restaurants that I didn't recognize. I walked right past a store, then stopped and walked back a few feet when it caught my interest. It stood there like a shining beacon among the dreariness that was my day. I furrowed my eyebrows. I knew I shouldn't go in, but what else could I do? I just wanted to escape.

So, I walked into the liquor store, nodding at the man behind the counter who looked up when the bell on the door rang, announcing my arrival. I ambled down the aisles, running my fingers over the labels on the bottles. Whiskey, vodka, scotch, brandy; I thought about how good it would feel not to feel right now. I reached out to grab the neck of the smallest bottle of whiskey. _Just one drink_, I reasoned with myself. _One drink, and nothing more. No harm done_. I was about to pull it off the shelf when my phone rang.

I fished it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. With a sigh, I let go of the bottle and walked outside to take the call.

"Hey Dad." I said as I picked up.

"Hi, Edward." His calm, cheery voice greeted me. "How'd you make out last night?"

I froze. How did he know about that?

"Did you see Dr. Snow at all?"

_Oh, the benefit_. I wracked my hand through my hair and tried to think back on details of my night out. The gala was hardly the most eventful part of the evening.

"Uh, yeah. I ran into him for a minute. He said to tell you and Mom hello." Dr. Snow was one of my Dad's best friends from medical school, and they'd worked together at the hospital in Chicago before we uprooted to New York.

"It's a shame I had to work last night. I would've loved to see him."

"He was sorry he missed you too."

"So, did you have a good time?"

"I guess. I didn't –I didn't stay for long."

"Oh." He said, sounding surprised. "Why not?"

"There was, uh… there was someone there who I didn't want to see." I answered vaguely, rubbing at the back of my neck.

"Who might that be?"

A name popped into my head. "Mike Newton." I said his name with genuine scorn.

"Mike Newton? Why on earth wouldn't you want to see him? You two were quite the pair in high school. And that Tyler Crowley, too."

"He was there, too."

"What's the problem between the two of you?"

"I just…" _Fuck. Excuse, excuse, please come to me_. "He asked me about Tanya, and I didn't want to have to get into explaining about the relapse and the breakup and all that happy bullshit." _Wow. Very impressive_.

"Hm. Well, I suppose I don't blame you for that." He paused for a long moment. "Are you okay, son?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You sound, I don't know, stressed out."

"No, I'm fine." I lied unconvincingly.

"You know you can talk to me, Edward."

"I know, Dad. I'm okay. Really. Just… tired, I guess."

That wasn't a lie. I really was starting to feel the weight of being awake for more than a day straight catching up with me.

"All right. I'll let you get some sleep then."

"I'll talk to you later. Tell Mom I said hi."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too, Dad."

I hung up the phone and turned around to look at the store, running my hand through my hair. It suddenly held no sense of escape for me. That brief, unremarkable call from my Dad threw things back into focus. If I went back into that store and bought that bottle, I was being selfish. I'd spent way too much time being selfish, hurting my parents, my family, just because I was hurting. No more. I had to deal with my pain some other way.

I got back to my apartment just as the first clap of thunder boomed through the city, prompting an almost immediate downpour. I got changed into sweats and just stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, trying to decide what to do. I didn't want to be idle; I was afraid of what that could lead to. My eyes scanned around the room and locked on the piano in the corner. I hadn't touched it since I'd moved in. I walked over and flipped open the cover, running my fingers along the ivory keys. A sense of peace fell over me instantly as my fingers plucked notes from the beautiful instrument. I sat down on the bench, and let the music take me, losing myself in the notes that flowed deftly from my fingers. For the first time in a long time, I played well into the night.

*

I was finally able to fall asleep around four in the morning on Sunday. There was nothing restful about it, between the boisterous storm outside and the nagging thoughts circulating in my mind, but I knew that unless I wanted to drive myself straight into the ground, I needed to get some shuteye.

Late in the afternoon, I was woken up by a persistent pounding on my front door. I pulled a pair of sweatpants on over my briefs and shuffled down the hallway to the door, yawning as I went. I checked the clock as I passed it, and it said it was 3:57.

I opened the door, and was surprised to see Jasper standing there, looking distraught.

"Jazz?" I said confusedly, running my hand through my hair.

"Did you know?" He asked tersely.

"Know what?"

"That Alice and Bella are fucking hookers?"

That effectively chased away the rest of my grogginess. I poked my head out and looked up and down the hallway worriedly. Satisfied that no one had been around to hear what he had just said, I stepped to the side to let Jasper into my apartment. I was relieved that no one had heard him. I was still fucking protecting her.

"She told you?" I asked him when we got into the living room.

He plopped down onto the couch. "Guess that answers my question."

I sat down next to him. "I found out Friday."

"And, you didn't bother to tell me, because…"

"Bella asked me not to. She said Alice was planning on telling you soon, and I figured it'd be better for you to hear it from the horse's mouth than from me."

"You should have told me." He said dryly.

"I figured I'd let her explain herself to you."

He dropped his head into his hands. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what are you going to do about Bella?"

"If you're looking for advice, Jasper, I've got nothing for you. My situation and your situation are two entirely different things."

"What are you going to do?" He asked again.

I sighed. "What I have to. Let her go."

"I-I can't do that. I think… I don't know. Alice… she feels like the one or something." He ran his hands roughly over his face and through his hair. "This is messed up, Edward."

I sighed in agreement. "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I don't know what to do." He grumbled.

"I don't know either, Jasper." I shrugged. "Is she worth it?"

"What, you mean, is she worth compromising my morals, my ethics, my ego, my fucking pride, to accept her terrible decisions as human error and keep being with her regardless?"

"I wouldn't have gone so philosophical with it, but sure, let's go with that."

He was the one sighing this time. "I think she is."

"Then there's your answer, right?"

"Oh, gee, that was easy." He said, rolling his eyes and throwing himself back against the couch cushion. "Fuck." He looked over at me. "How do you feel about commiserating for a while?"

"Miserate all you want, but the co is out. I'm done stressing about it. I can't have her and her problems in my life." The words were mechanical, with no real feeling behind them. He noticed.

"Just like that, huh?" He asked, unconvinced.

"Yeah. No." I ran my hand through my hair. "I mean, really, what choice do I have? I need her out of my life, permanently."

"So, how are you planning on doing that?" He said sarcastically.

"Fuck, if I know how. I just know that I have to."

"Good luck."

I barked a dry, humorless laugh. He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded.

"What the hell are you staring at?" I said with mock harshness.

He shook his head. "It's so amazing how far you've come, Edward."

I stood up. "Don't start with the happy 'I'm so proud of you' shit today, all right? I can't fucking take it. It's too early."

"It's four o'clock."

"Exactly. Too early. Now, if I have to deal with your ass being here, I'm going to have to make some coffee. Want some?"

"Yeah."

I put on a pot of coffee, while Jasper flicked on the TV and tuned it to a football game between two teams neither one of us gave a shit about. We sat in silence and brooded separately for the next few hours.

*

Monday morning, I stormed into the garage, late. Rosalie poked her head out from under the car hood she was working on in order to shoot a glare my way.

"So nice of you to show up." She said sarcastically.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I spat at her.

Her scornful expression morphed into one of confusion. She cocked an eyebrow at me questioningly, but I just stalked off toward the office.

A little while later, I was working on the back end of a Buick when Austin, one of the guys who worked up front in the shop, came over to me.

"Hey Edward?"

"What?"

"There's a customer out front who needs a 16" fan belt, and the computer says we have them, but I can't find any."

"We just got a shipment in last week." I said.

"Well, there aren't any left."

"Did you check the stock room?"

"Yeah. Nothing."

"I don't know what to tell you. If we don't have them, I can't magically pull one out of my ass."

"Do you think I should just-"

"You know how to do your job, right? Then go do it, because I'm sure as hell not going to do it for you." I snapped.

Rosalie came over then, her face full of concern. I turned my full attention to the car I was working on. "What's up Austin?"

"We're out of 16" fan belts, but the computer says we should still have some." He said nervously.

"I have a box of them in the office. There was a problem with the lot number, but I got it sorted out. They're right by the desk, if you want to grab them." Austin nodded, and Rose said quietly. "Don't mind him. He's having a bad day." Austin nodded again and walked away.

Rose turned to me. "Let's take an early lunch."

"I have to finish this." I said without looking at her.

"I'll have Seth take care of it. He's just sitting on is ass right now anyways. Come on."

"Fine."

Rosalie and I went to a Chinese food restaurant not far from the garage. She was quiet on the walk over, and by the time we got seated at our booth, I got the sense that there was something she wanted to tell me, but she was stalling on bringing it up. I just let her mull over her kung pao chicken. She would speak up when she was ready to; that was Rosalie's way.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, she cleared her throat. "Tanya called me this weekend." She said apprehensively.

_Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner_. This was not a subject I wanted to talk about right now. "How's she doing?" I forced out.

"Good, really good. She loves London."

"Well, that's great."

She paused for a long moment. "She asked about you." She said hesitantly.

"What'd she say?"

"She wanted to know how you were doing since you got out. I told her that you moved out on your own, and you're doing good."

I furrowed my eyebrows. I'd been out of rehab for over a year. "When's the last time you talked to her?"

"She calls me about once a month, but… that was the first time she brought you up."

I nodded. That was understandable. If I were her, I wouldn't much care what the fuck happened to me either.

"I didn't tell her you're seeing someone." She continued.

"Why would you? I'm not."

"Right." She scoffed and narrowed her eyes. "Don't lie to me. I think it's good that you're putting yourself out there again. It's about time."

"I'm not." I repeated.

"Edward, I love Tanya, but I like Bella too. I'm not going to go all bitch on you for being with her."

"You not going all bitch on me? Now that's a dream." I snorted.

"Yeah, that's true." She agreed. "But still. You really don't have to deny it."

"There's nothing to deny. Me and Bella are not dating. We're nothing, period." I said, picking at my rice with my fork.

"Is that why you're being exceptionally unpleasant today?"

"I'm fine." I was really starting to hate having to say that to everyone.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that bullshit."

"Rose…"

"Spill, Edward. You're obviously upset about something. You know you're not supposed to bottle that shit up. It's not healthy."

I looked at her and dropped my fork with a sigh. I always told Rosalie everything; she was pretty much my best friend when it came down to it. She had always been there to support me from day one, because she understood my struggles more than anyone else in my life. She'd been through it before.

I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell her everything that happened on Friday night. I told her about the walk that took hours and brought me nowhere, about the trip to the liquor store, and the fact that I'd probably have gotten drunk off my ass and God knows what else if not for a well timed call from my father. She listened to every word I said in silence, nodding, and watching me with pensive eyes.

"Edward, you just need to stay away from her." She said when I finished.

"That's the plan." I said weakly.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do. You've known her for, what, two months? Less? And she already has you jeopardizing your sobriety."

"It's not her fault." After all that had happened, I was defending her. "She doesn't even know about my drug problem."

Rose's eyes tightened, and she pursed her lips. Her head shook infinitesimally, and I knew there was something she wanted to say that she didn't think I was going to like very much.

"Spit it out Rose."

And she did. "Isn't that just a little hypocritical?"

"How do you figure?" I said defensively.

"She kept something from you, and you tear her a new asshole about it. But you're keeping something from her, too."

"That's different."

"Yeah, maybe in your mind."

I rolled my eyes at her.

She let it go. "So, what happened to your face?" She said around a bite of food.

"Bella punched me."

"Huh. Can't say you didn't deserve it." She put down her fork and leaned across the table, grabbing my face, and turning it to the side. "Well, I'll give her this much. It looks like girlie has a mean right hook."

"Yeah. I was pretty surprised, actually."

Rosalie settled back down on to her side of the booth. "Maybe she wasn't lying when she said she could take care of herself."

I rolled my eyes again. "Give me a break." I put my elbows on the table and rubbed my hands over my face.

"Whoa. What the fuck happened to your hand?"

I pulled my hands away from my face and hid them under the table. "Nothing."

"Bullshit. Let me see." I didn't move. She sighed and came around the table to sit next to me, grabbing my arm. She took my swollen hand in hers, examining it. "Jesus fucking Christ, Edward. What the hell did you do?"

"I punched a wall."

"You punched a wall?" She looked at me like I was crazy.

"A brick one."

"Are you in fucking sane? You have to get this checked out."

"It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's swollen like a damn beach ball. It's probably broken. You need to go see Carlisle."

"No. Rose, Dad doesn't find out about this. No one finds out about it, okay? If you tell them, then I'm going to have to deal with them breathing down my fucking neck, just waiting for me to fall off the wagon, and I can't take that right now."

"Okay. Fine. But I'm taking you to the hospital." She said stubbornly.

"Rose-"

"Uh, uh, uh. No protests. I _will_ use force if need be."

I knew arguing with her was futile, unless I wanted her foot shoved up my ass, so I surrendered. She drove me to the local hospital in her red Mercedes.

It turned out, my hand was broken. The ER doctor said I wouldn't need a plaster cast if I promised to keep the brace on for at least six weeks. I agreed. He tried to prescribe me pain meds, but when I told him about my condition, he wrote me a script for Motrin 800 instead.

"I told you we shouldn't have gone." I said to Rosalie as we were getting into the car. "Now I have to leave you high and dry. Again."

"Dude, I think your well-being is just a tiny bit more important than the shop. I'll survive." She threw me a sly sideways glance. "Besides, you get desk duty now. Paperwork and phone calls _all day long_."

I groaned. "My favorite. Maybe I should've broken my right hand instead."

"Too late now." She said smugly.

When we got back to the shop, Rose kicked me out of the garage and told me that if I didn't go home, she'd sneak into my apartment while I was sleeping and use a blender on my most cherished man parts. I winced at just the idea of that happening.

"No more Bella." She said sternly to me through the window as I started the car.

"That won't be a problem." I answered and pushed the button to roll the window up. She gave me a doubtful look as I pulled out of the lot, but I ignored her.

*

**BPOV**

The rest of the weekend passed slowly, dismally. Sleep didn't come easy. Usually, I slept really well when it rained; the sound of it pounding softly against the bricks and metal of the building made me feel an odd sense of serenity. But the thunder was too loud that weekend, the lightening too bright, and as soon as I started to doze off, I'd be jolted back into consciousness by one or the other.

Alice called me to come over on Sunday afternoon. She'd had her talk with Jasper earlier that day, and it hadn't gone bad, but it was draining for her. When I stepped off the elevator in the lobby of my building, on my way to Alice's place, I almost walked right into Jasper. I looked up at him, and his face wasn't exactly angry, but more distressed than anything. He didn't say anything to me; he just walked right past me into the elevator.

As soon as I walked into Alice's door, I asked her about it.

"How did everything go with Jasper?"

She sighed as I sat down beside her at the kitchen table. "As good as it could've went, I guess. I told him everything. Starting with James and the baby, all the way up to the fact that I'm a call girl."

"How'd he take it?"

"He was angry at first. Like, really, really angry. Not that I blame him. But after he was done ranting and raving, he calmed down enough to let me explain everything."

"What did you say?"

"I told him that was the reason I wouldn't kiss him or anything. That I didn't want things to go further without him knowing the truth. That I cared enough about him to give him the choice."

"And what did he say?"

"He said he respected me for being so protective of what we have. He said he needs time to think, and he'll call me when he figures things out."

"Wow."

After that, Alice and I got plastered drunk off cheap wine just to avoid our 'what ifs' and 'coulda, shoulda, wouldas'.

Monday went by in a blur. I ended up spending Sunday night at Alice's, and we slept in really late. We went out for a late lunch, and by the time I got home, I had to start getting ready for the client I had later on that night. There wasn't much time for me to sit around and be miserable; something I was more than a little grateful for.

Tuesday was a different story. Despite the fact that I didn't get in until three that morning, I was wide-awake by nine. I cleaned my entire apartment, took care of Paul's litter box, showered, dressed, and was done with it all by noon. Then, I had a whole empty day of nothingness stretching ahead of me until nine PM, and I already felt bored. I grabbed a book off my shelf and sat down on the couch, ready to throw myself into a different time and place to escape the problems I had in the here and now.

As soon as I was truly melting into the story in my hands, my cell phone started going off across the room. With a sigh, I got up and plucked it off my nightstand. My eyebrows furrowed when I saw the name on the screen. I pressed the green button and held it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Bella? It's Rose."

"Hey Rose. What's up?"

"Are you doing anything right now?"

"No. Why?" I asked, confused.

"Do you think you could meet me? We need to talk." She paused. "It's about Edward."

My stomach dropped. "Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. Where?"

She told me to meet her at a coffee shop near her and Edward's garage. I took my truck to go meet her, but I was too nervous to appreciate the fact that my truck was running better than it ever had, since Rosalie serviced it.

I jogged the short distance through the drizzle from the parking lot to the front door. When I got into the coffee shop, Rosalie was already there, sitting at a two-seater table by the window, waiting for me. The sides of her mouth were turned down in a pout, her eyebrows drawn together. I walked toward her.

"Hey Rose."

"Hi Bella." She looked up at me and smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes. "Sit down."

I sat across from her. "How are you?"

"Good." We stared at each other in an awkward silence for a minute. Her face returned to a pout, and I turned my head to look out the window.

"Edward told me everything." Rosalie said carefully after a moment.

I turned my face back to her, blanching. "So, you know that I'm…"

"Yeah." I ran a hand through my hair anxiously. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anybody. And I'm not here to judge you. This is solely about Edward."

"Okay." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "He's pretty pissed at me, isn't he?"

"Yeah." She said vehemently. "He's… kind of a wreck about the whole situation. He's hurting, bad."

I scoffed. "_He's_ a wreck? After all the shit he said to me, _he's_ the one that's hurting?"

"I think he's allowed to be hurt when someone he cares about lies straight to his fucking face, Bella." She said defensively.

"I didn't deliberately set out to lie to him, Rose. I never meant to hurt him."

"I know that. And I know you care about him." She took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't call you here to yell at you."

"Then why did you call me here?"

She looked at me intensely. "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, okay? I want you to know that." She shrugged. "People make fucked up choices. Whatever, I get that. Hell if it's my place to judge, I've made plenty of fucking mistakes. But you have to understand that my brother can't handle these mistakes the way other people can."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "This is so difficult to try to explain." She paused for a moment, thinking. "How much do you know about his past?"

"He told me that his parents died when he was a baby, and that he was in foster care until he was fourteen. I know that he was abused for most of his childhood, until the Cullens adopted him."

She nodded thoughtfully. "And, you obviously know that he has… issues… with his anger."

"Yeah. I think that's been made perfectly clear."

"Well, it's not just the anger. Edward doesn't do anything halfway. When he feels something, he fucking feels it with everything he's got. So when he's hurting, it tears him up. Even if he's too damn proud to show it. So stress, any kind of stress… he feels that amplified, too. And it's not good for him. It's not good for anybody, really, but especially not for him. If he gets overly… angry, or sad, or upset, something very bad could happen."

By the way she was talking, she was making it sound like Edward was the Incredible Hulk or something. I had a brief mental flash of Edward busting out of his clothes and turning green. I was so confused.

"Like what?"

She sighed in frustration and flipped her perfect blonde locks over her shoulder. "God, this is so fucking hard. I wish I could just..." She shook her head infinitesimally. "Edward could revert to doing something really, really dangerous to deal with his problems. Something that could potentially kill him."

My eyes widened. "Rosalie, I really don't understand."

"I know. Fuck. I'm a blunt bitch for a reason." She huffed. "I'm terrible at this cryptic, beating around the bush bullshit."

"Then just tell me."

"I wish it were that simple. But I can't. It wouldn't be right for me to tell you."

I sighed, annoyed. "That's so frustrating, you know."

"I know."

"So, why did you call me here then?" She never really got to the point.

She looked at me hesitantly. "To tell you to stay away from Edward." She said slowly.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"It's nothing against you personally. I like you a lot Bella, and I consider you a friend. So, as a friend, I'm asking you to keep your distance from him."

"That's… ridiculous." I scoffed.

She shook her head. "It's not."

"Rose, we had an argument. We had a fight, but we can sort it out. We can make up from this." I shook my head in denial. "You can't ask me to cut him out of my life." My voice was unrecognizable to me, a sound of desperation that I'd never heard from myself before.

"I have to. My brother is… vulnerable. If you care about him, which I know you do, you'll do what I'm asking. You're not good for him to have in his life."

"So, because I'm a call girl, I'm not even good enough to be his friend?" The truth of the words hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut as they came from my mouth.

"It's not what you do, it's all that it entails. The bullshit that comes along with your job is way too much for him to handle."

"Isn't that for Edward to decide?"

"I don't want to fight with you about this. Edward knows you're bad for him, and I told him to stay away from you. I don't know if he'll listen to me, but I'm hoping you will." As she talked, I continued shaking my head at her. I refused to believe that we couldn't be in each other's life.

Finally, she sighed and leaned in toward me across the table, with a look of pity in her eyes that wrenched at my insides. "Bella, you're toxic to him." She said quietly.

That last sentence hit me, and hit me hard, as I considered not having Edward in my life. Two months ago, if you had asked me if there was any one person I couldn't live without, I would've laughed in your face. But, to my dismay, that had all changed. I knew that I needed Edward now. I'd never needed anyone, never depended on anyone, but he changed all of that. He was under my skin, swimming in my veins, and there was no eradicating that.

I usually had clean-cut relationships with people –no damage going in, no damage coming out. But there was nothing clean or easy about the way Edward and I were. He had plunged into my life abruptly and haphazardly, his influence clinging to me just as hard as I clung back to him. Could I live without that? Could I be without the way he made me feel? The way Rose was making it sound, my staying away from him was life or death. So if it was for him, I knew I had to. I'd do anything for him.

I took a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, I nodded. "Okay. I can do that. I-I'll stay away from him."

She put her hand on mine and squeezed. "I'm sorry I have to ask you to do this. I really am, Bella."

"No hard feelings." I said weakly.

"This is the right thing for both of you."

I just nodded, and started to stand up. "I'm just going to go, okay? I'll… see you later or something."

I didn't wait for her to respond. I stood up and walked out of the coffee shop into the pounding rain. It had picked up since I'd been in there, and it was beating down now, angry in its force. I pulled my hood over my head and ran to the truck, but it was no use. I was soaked through by the time I got the door open. I hurled myself into the cab, pulled off my hood, and started the truck. I turned the heat up to full blast and then leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to calm my breathing. After a few minutes, I pulled my head from the wheel and shifted the truck into gear. I turned the radio on and put the volume all the way up, effectively making it impossible for me to think clearly. I would save the brooding for when I got home.

At home, I changed into dry clothes and sat down on the couch. I stared blankly at the TV and let my conversation with Rosalie run through my mind. One sentence kept repeating itself over and over in my head, interrupting every other thought I had, resounding venomously in my ears. She didn't say it with malice, but those four words hurt more than anything Edward had said to me the other night, probably because I knew they were 100% true.

"_You're toxic to him."_

I scoffed out loud at myself. Toxic. That was one way to describe me. I knew I wasn't good enough to be in Edward's life. I knew I was bad for him; I was bad for everyone. I was an epidemic of damages and pain and shattered pieces. There was nothing good about me. It was selfish of me to miss him, selfish to want to have him in my life when I could do nothing but hurt him. And now, Rosalie had bestowed upon me this knowledge of something that plagued Edward. I didn't know what it was, she was so cryptic about it, but I knew I needed to stay away from him, just like she said.

Even knowing that it was right, it hurt. To think I'd never hear his laugh again, or see the way his eyes crinkled almost to the point of disappearing when he laughed really hard. That I wouldn't feel the warmth of his big hand around mine, or even cringe at the way he scraped his teeth against his fork when we ate together, just because he knew it annoyed me. The way you could tell his mood just by his eyebrows; they were so expressive and shifting, it was comical sometimes. That was all lost to me now, had to be lost to me, if I could give him any chance at a happy existence. An existence that couldn't include me, no matter how much I wanted it to.

A faint sound pulled me out of my painful reverie. I pressed the mute button on the TV remote and cocked my head, listening. It sounded like someone was playing classical music. I stood up slowly and walked down the hall toward my front door, the music growing louder as I did. When I got to the door, I opened it a crack. The music was coming from Edward's apartment, and I immediately knew that it wasn't from a CD. He was playing the piano.

I knew he played piano; I had seen the one her had in his apartment. But whenever I had asked him to play something for me, he always refused. Hearing him play now, I had no idea why he wouldn't play for me. The sound was so beautiful. I shut the door and leaned my head against it, closing my eyes. I pictured him sitting on the bench, his long fingers moving gracefully over the keys, making pure beauty out of just sounds. My eyes filled with tears as I realized that I would never see him play, never see the expression on his face, or the glint I knew would be in his emeralds as he hit those poignant notes. It nearly tore me up.

I was done trying to make sense of my actions or my feelings; nothing had ever been the same since I met him, and I had to just accept that rather than fighting it anymore. It was a battle that I'd already lost as soon as he showed up at my door. So, I did something so pathetic, that I fervently hoped no other human being would ever find out about it. I jogged to my bed and pulled a pillow and blanket off of it. Then, I went back down the hall and settled myself down, pressed up against the door, just so I could listen to him play. I let myself forget about how sad and weak I was being, and pretended that he was playing just for me. Uncomfortable as the position was, I fell asleep to the beautiful notes.

The last thing that went through my mind before I fell asleep: _I am so fucked._

*****

**I have to be honest and say that I don't really like this chapter. I rewrote every part at least twice, but I'm not satisfied. I don't exactly know why. I think the whole stress & sleep deprivation thing is getting to me. Sigh. But I wanted to make sure I didn't leave you guys hanging for too long; you've been so good to me. I'll probably end up going back and rewriting this again at some point, and if that happens, I'll make sure to let you all know.**

**I'll be taking on the role of doting baby sister to my brother for the next 1-2 weeks, so I'm not sure when I'll have time to get the next post up. Luckily, I already have the next chapter outlined so I'm hoping to have it for you early next week. No promises though. So, until then, leave me lots of love my babies!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry, sorry, sorry this too so long. Gah, I suck, I know. My life has been super fuckhectic. Remember how I told you that my brother was fine? Yeah, well he ended up having complications a week after the incident, because the hospital he went to initially missed a few things, and so he had to take another overnight trip to the hospital. He had surgery yesterday, and everything went well, but he's in a lot of pain. This could've all been avoided if the doctors would have caught it the first time around, but whatever. Fucking hospitals. The only good news about my whole situation is that my mind thrives in chaos, so I've been brainstorming the fuck out of this story. It's all about having time to get those ideas down on paper, though, which I haven't had much of lately**

**Anyways, I'm going to stop my ranting and raving and give you patient lovelies your chapter =).**

**PS: Fixers, Broken now has a banner! I'm really proud of myself for making it, since I have absolutely no tech skills whatsoever. You can find the link in my profile.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*****

**BPOV**

The next morning, I got a phone call and subsequent ear full from the agency about skipping out on my client the night before. I told them I had a last minute personal emergency that was unavoidable. I figured that sounded a little less pathetic than 'I sat next to my door all night fantasizing about my neighbor and listening to him play the piano'. They informed me that they would be taking an additional ten percent cut of my next job earnings. _Yeah, fuck you, too_.

I did my best over the rest of the week to try and keep myself occupied. When I wasn't working, I would fabricate errands to run, and ultimately spend time holed up in my apartment. This meant I got a lot more sleep than usual, but instead of feeling rested, I felt completely drained. The whole point of keeping myself busy was to keep my mind off of the things that troubled it the most, but whenever I was doing anything, I was thoroughly aware of _why_ I was doing it, therefore making me even more depressed. _When did my life turn into a twisted fucking melodramatic soap opera?_ I can tell you the exact date, which is pretty sad –October 15. The day I met Edward.

As if I didn't have enough stress on my plate, my nightmare was even more vivid and gripping than usual, probably because of my frayed emotions. I could almost feel the uncomfortable tightness of his hands on me, hear his spiteful voice, smell the bourbon on his breath. I took to sleeping on my stomach, hoping that the pillow would muffle the screams that propelled me back into consciousness night after night. Paul no longer slept on the pillow beside me; he slept in the little house on top of his scratching post.

To top everything off, on Friday morning, I woke up with the sniffles, a cough, and a throat so sore I could barely talk. Like I've said before, my life is apparently one long fucking practical joke.

The one highlight of my week was when Alice came bouncing into my apartment on Saturday morning.

"Bella!" I heard her trilling from the hallway as she shut the door behind her.

She appeared in the doorway, and stopped short when she saw me, her smile disappearing. I was sitting on the couch, swathed in a blanket and surrounded by mountains of white tissues. I could only imagine what I looked like to her.

"Jesus fuck, Bells, you look awful." She said.

"I _feel_ awful." I agreed nasally.

"I brought you cough medicine and cigarettes." She said, putting a plastic bag down on the coffee table. "And soup." She added, handing me a styrofoam cup with a lid.

"You didn't make it, did you?" I asked warily as I took it from her.

Alice and cooking didn't exactly mix well. I distinctly remembered my 20th birthday, when she tried to cook me a birthday dinner. Needless to say, she somehow managed to set the curtains over her sink on fire. We ended up eating peanut butter and potato chip sandwiches with our champagne, after we fire extinguished her kitchen to death, of course. I swear, the whole experience scarred me for life.

"Of course I didn't make it. I got it from Hale & Hearty."

Despite myself, I lit up. "Ooh, my favorite!" I said, sitting up. "What kind did you get me?"

"Chicken noodle. They had the Senegalese chicken today, but I didn't want to get you anything that might irritate your throat."

"Chicken noodles great." I smiled. She babied me too much.

Alice disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a spoon for me. I took it eagerly and opened the container, shoving a big spoonful of the steaming soup in my mouth. In my haste, I'd forgotten to blow on it. And _fuck_, it was hot.

"Ow!" I put the container down on the coffee table roughly.

"Careful, it's hot." Alice said, a second too late.

I rolled my eyes at her and fanned at my tongue with my hand. "Thank you for that important piece of information." I griped, but my ailing tongue coupled with the fact that I was so clogged up my voice was like radio static, made it come out distorted.

Alice just laughed at me, then took off for the kitchen again and brought me back a glass of milk. I took a substantial gulp, powering through half the glass in one sip, successfully sating the fire on my tongue.

"Thanks." I wiped my mouth with back of my hand.

"No problem."

I pushed a bunch of tissues off of the couch cushion and on to the floor. "Here. Sit down."

She sat down next to e, and then I heard a muffled meow. A second later, Paul jumped out of a mound of tissues and on to the couch.

"There you are!" I exclaimed as he sat down between Alice and me.

I stroked his back while Alice scratched behind his ears and giggled. "What, did you think you lost him?"

"I think he's been avoiding me." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Not even he likes to deal with me when I'm sick and miserable."

"That's not very nice, Paul Jr. You're supposed to take care of Mommy when she's sick." He just looked at her and kept on purring, oblivious to anything but the love he was soaking up. He was such a hambone.

"So, what brings you to this side of Brooklyn on such a dreary ass day?" I asked Alice. The sound of the rain pounding against the window made for great emphasis on my question.

"Oh, so now I need an excuse to come see you? Ouch. That hurts, Bells."

I rolled my eyes. "No. But judging by the smile you can hardly keep off your face, I'm guessing you have something good to tell me."

She grinned. "You caught me. I really needed to come over here and tell you, because I'm _so_ happy, Bella. Jasper came over yesterday to talk."

"He did?" She nodded, and I smiled widely. "I take it everything went good, then?" I asked with a cough.

"Better than good. Great. He wants us to get past this as much as I do. He's willing to give us a shot, for real. But under one condition."

"You leave the business." I deduced.

She nodded. "I told him yes. Absolutely, yes."

Despite myself, I was beaming. As much as I despised the idea of ultimatums, I was more than glad that Jasper had given Alice this one. I wanted her to be happy, really happy, more than anything. She deserved it.

"That's wonderful Alice. I mean really, I can't even… if I wasn't afraid of infecting you, I'd give you the biggest hug right now." I said.

She laughed. "I was so nervous when he showed up at my place yesterday. He didn't even call, he just showed up. He wanted to do everything in person, I guess. We talked it out for hours, and when he told me he still wanted to be with me, I cried. I literally broke down in tears. It was so embarrassing."

"Yeah, that sounds like you."

She jabbed me in the arm with her pointy little elbow. "I am an emotional woman, okay?" She grumbled jokingly. Then she sighed, and said quietly, "He kissed me."

"Aw!" I exclaimed. Her blatant happiness was bringing out the teenage girl in me.

"I know! It was like –my God, Bella –like nothing I've ever felt before. Indescribable. And then, he spent the night."

"Did you two…" I trailed off, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.

"No. We just had our first kiss! I don't think we're there."

"_Yet_." I qualified, and shot her a loaded look that made her blush.

She shook her head at me, but couldn't contain the huge smirk on her lips. "I want to wait. I want to do this right. I don't want to just jump into bed with him, because that won't show him that he's different for me. And he is; he's amazing. He's the best man I've ever met in my life."

I nodded and smiled at her. "I'm so happy for you Alice." I told her ardently.

"Thanks, Bell."

I put one finger up, signaling for her to wait a minute, and then braced myself for the major sneeze I could already feel in the back on my sinuses. I grabbed a tissue from the box tucked into my side and sneezed into it, my whole body rocking with the force, and then blew my nose noisily. Alice winced and looked down at the tissues piled up all around the couch.

"Maybe you should throw some of those in a trash bag. I don't think this is sanitary." She said.

"Does it look like I'm in the mood to clean?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Right." She said, nodding to herself. "Do you want me to do it? I don't mind cleaning up a bit."

"No, Alice, it's fine. You know, you probably shouldn't even be here. I don't want you to get sick, especially now."

"Nonsense. I never get sick. Besides, you think I'm going to abandon my best friend just because you're loaded with germs and snots? I'd brave a lot worse things for you, trust me."

"Even flesh eating zombies?" I asked, getting sidetracked by being a wise ass, like usual.

"Oh, definitely. I'll blow those mother fuckers' heads off."

I laughed one throaty laugh, and then it turned into a long fit of coughs. When I finally recovered, I said, "Thanks. Same here. Except for spiders. If there's spiders attacking, you're on your own."

"How about I fend them off while you build us a spider proof fort?"

I nodded thoughtfully. "That could work. I like how you think. See, I knew I kept you around for a reason."

"Yes. For that, _and_ for picking up snot filled tissues." She said and stood up, I assumed to go grab a trash bag.

I rolled my eyes. "Just leave it, Alice. I'll clean it up later. Promise." I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled mess of hair. "Anyways, I think a germ ridden apartment is the least of my problems right now."

She turned back and sat down beside me. "Are you okay? I mean, I know you're stressing out, and that must make being sick like twenty times worse."

"I just wish that when something goes wrong in my life, it could just be the one thing. It feels like when one thing goes wrong, it sets off this whole domino effect of fucking problems." I started ticking things off on my fingers. "I have Edward drama, my head is stuffed up, my throat hurts, I can't stop coughing, and now I'm apparently turning into an insomniac."

"You haven't been sleeping?"

I looked down at my hands. "I've been having nightmares again."

"Nightmares?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. After a moment, her face lit with understanding. "Wait. The same one from before?" I nodded, and her eyes widened in alarm. "Since when?"

"They started up again just after Halloween."

"And you're just telling me this _now?_"

"You've had your own shit to deal with. I didn't want to impose my drama on you."

"Shit or no shit, I always have time for you. You know that. Geez, Bella. Is it… the same?"

"Mostly." She raised her eyebrows, silently telling me to explain. I shrugged. "It's pretty much the same. I open my eyes, and he's there… well here, in my apartment. I can't move or scream. And he says all the same things, only-" I trailed off, thinking about the one thing that was different in my dream now.

"Only what?"

"Well, before, I couldn't talk in it. I could hear him, but I couldn't say anything."

"But now you can?"

"Yeah. I still can't scream, but I'm whispering. And it's weird. I just keep saying the same thing over and over. 'No more'. No matter what he says, the only think I say is 'no more'."

"Do you think it means anything?"

I snorted and shook my head. "No. It's just a dream. But it's really fucking annoying. All I want to do is put that shit behind me, but it's like my subconscious won't let me. Asshole brain."

She was quiet for a minute, and then, hesitantly, she said, "Maybe it's because you haven't really dealt with it."

I bristled. "I'm dealing with it. I've dealt with it."

She shook her head. "Dealing with it and pushing it to the back of your mind are not the same thing."

"And dredging it all up would be so much better? I just want to forget it ever happened."

"It's impossible to do that. It's a part of you, Bella."

"Yeah, well, what happened with James isn't ripping you up inside, is it? I'll be fine."

"But I talked to James before I left. I had closure. I left everything behind in Indie. You didn't."

"It's not like I'm going to call him up and have a nice conversation about what he did over the phone."

"What if you go-"

"I'm not going back there." I said with a ring of finality.

She put her hands up in surrender. "Hey, I'm not trying to be a bitch here. You're the closest thing to real family that I have. I just want you to be okay."

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry Alice. I know you're just trying to help." I rubbed my hand over my face. "God, I don't know why I've been so fucking snappy lately."

"Don't sweat it, Bella. You have a lot on your plate. I understand." She stood up. "I think a little rest would do you some good."

"You're probably right." I agreed, stretching my arms over my head.

She leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Eat the soup, take the medicine, and get some rest." She patted Paul on the head. "And you take care of Mommy."

"Thanks for everything."

"Your welcome. I'll call you later."

I smiled and waved to her, and then she danced off down the hallway and out the door.

*

The following week was surprisingly easier in some ways, but harder in others. Thanks to the medicine and tons of sleep, my cold was just a tickle in the back of my throat by Monday morning. I had a rare week of being booked solid at work, and sleep came easily and dreamlessly with my busy exhaustion. Not to mention, I raided the liquor stash at the back of my freezer for all it was worth, making falling asleep effortless.

I didn't see Edward at all.

Not seeing him was both a blessing and a curse. It made it easier for me to forget the exact strength of the grasp his presence held on me. I was even starting to get used to the hollow ache that formed in my chest every time I passed by his door. And the more time that passed without seeing him, the easier it was to realize how logical it was for me to stay away from him. This whole situation was proof enough that I was way too deep into alien territory. I'd let him in enough to get under my skin, but I had to believe there was still time to force myself to stop feeling for him. I could rinse him out of my system. I had to. And if I didn't have him in my life, then I could get back to being myself again. I could get back to the Bella that I knew and recognized. Independent. Content. Impassive. The more I thought about this, the more sense it made.

But not seeing Edward for almost two weeks straight worried me. I didn't know if he was okay or not, if he was hurting, or if whatever Rosalie had been talking about could've taken hold of him. I heard him playing the piano almost every night, so I figured that must mean he's at least doing okay. I wondered if maybe he had already made up his mind, and was over the whole thing. I hoped, for his sake and mine, that he was.

Through my rationalizations, I was thoroughly aware that my mind was changing faster than traffic lights, but I tried not to let my vacillations register. My only fear was that it would be a completely different story once I saw his face again.

*

**EPOV**

The next two weeks were agonizing, torturous, but necessary. I spent more time than ever at the shop even though there wasn't any physical work for me to do, opening early every morning and closing late every night. My formerly neglected piano got a lot of attention. I played as much as I could, but every time I did, they were all half melodies because of my broken hand.

Keeping busy was calming, like it always had been for me. But it wasn't about keeping busy to distract myself; it was about clearing my head and making sense of my thoughts. They say 'idle hands are the Devil's play things', and part of the way I coped with recovering my addiction was by playing the piano and fixing cars. They kept my hands busy while leaving my mind free to rationalize. It was natural that these two things would be my outlets now.

I tried to get an objective look on the situation I was in, and came to the realization that it really made no sense at all. In the little time that we'd known each other, I'd become so consumed, so enraptured by Bella that I could barely think straight. But she wasn't the type of girl I would've ever expected myself to go after; she wasn't my usual type. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also stubborn and blunt, sarcastic and cynical, tense and guarded, and frustrating as all hell. The last woman I had been in a relationship with, Tanya, was pretty much the polar opposite. She was sophisticated, sweet, an open book, and honestly, a little stuck up. She was raised in high society, and it was written all over her, from her body language to her feet.

Strangely enough, I never felt intimidated being with Tanya. I didn't feel challenged or overwhelmed. And that was completely different from how I felt around Bella. To be honest, she scared the shit out of me.

Thinking about Tanya, my thoughts naturally went to three years ago when I relapsed. I caused her so much pain, and I put all the blame right on her shoulders. Just like any other junkie, I refused to take responsibility for my own actions. After I was off the drugs, I regretted everything. I never even got the chance to apologize, because she took off for London after I was committed and I was too ashamed of myself to call her. I figured it would be best to just leave her alone and let her get on with her life without anymore interference from me. I'd hurt her enough.

I hurt everyone I cared about back then. My parents, my brothers, Rosalie. Maybe Rosalie the most. She had taken me under her wing, she protected me and tried to take care of me so I wouldn't end up like her older brother, but I betrayed all of that when I took the drugs back up. I stole and lied and lashed out at everyone who tried to help me. It made me sick to think about the damage I caused.

I would never put my family through that again.

That's why I needed to listen to Rosalie, because she was right; I couldn't be around Bella anymore. It was too much of a risk, and one I couldn't afford to take. I had to stop lying to myself like this could actually work out in any way, and just accept that I couldn't have her. It was non-negotiable.

But I wasn't forgetting about the way I felt about her, and I wasn't losing it either. I knew it wasn't that simple. It was more like I was building a wall around it, containing it in a cage like a wild animal. That actually wasn't a bad comparison of how my feelings for her were. Untamed and feral, hasty and inexplicable, convoluted and messy, but fuck, they were strong.

I just had to be stronger.

*

I grabbed my red t-shirt off the floor and sniffed it. I winced and pulled my head away from it instantly. _Shit, does that stink_. I tossed it toward the corner of the room, then sighed as I looked at the pile it had landed on. My laundry basket was overflowing with dirty clothes. No wonder why I couldn't find anything to wear. It was times like these when I missed living with my parents. Doing laundry sucks.

I pulled on a gray t-shirt that didn't reek completely and a pair of sweatpants I found in the back of one of my drawers that I was sure I hadn't worn in over two years. They were navy blue, with a burn hole from a cigarette on the left leg and were so long, they dragged the ground when I walked. I had no idea where the hell I got them, but they were comfortable.

Grudgingly, I figured that since it was Sunday, and I had nothing to do, I might as well get my clothes washed. So I threw on a pair of sneakers and stuffed an unopened bottle of detergent, bleach, and a new pack of dryer sheets in the basket with the clothes. Then I picked up the heavy basket and went down the hallway to the elevator. I pressed the button for the basement, where the communal laundry room was.

The basement was nothing out of the ordinary. It was musky and gray, with dim yellow light bulbs and awning windows that were level with the street and pulled open from the bottom. To the right of the basement was the storage area, and around the corner to the left was where the washers and dryers were. They were set up in a U formation, with washers and dryers consecutively lining three walls.

I walked around the corner, and froze in my tracks. _I'm done for_. That was what ran through my head as I felt all of my resolve from the last few weeks fall away like it never existed.

Bella was standing with her back toward me, moving clothes from the washer into the dryer right next to it in the farthest right corner of the back wall. Her dark mahogany hair flowed down to the middle of her back over a light blue t-shirt. Every time she shifted, a sliver of her ivory skin peeked out from between her t-shirt and her skinny jeans. I could see the sexy little dimples on either side of her lower back, and the way her jeans hugged that perfect ass and legs almost had me drooling. Seeing her after so long made my heart start beating triple time. She was so beautiful.

She must have become aware that someone was in the room, because she turned her head, looking over her shoulder toward me. When she realized that it was me, I heard her gasp quietly, and then she was taking her bottom lip in between her teeth, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

I swallowed hard. She blinked and turned back to what she was doing, her back going ramrod straight. I recovered and tore my gaze away from her. I walked over to the washer furthest from her, the very first one on the left side of the room.

The air in that room was so thick with awkwardness and tension that it almost made it hard to breath. Every noise, the beeping of the buttons and 'ching' of the coin slot as she slid it back into the machine, seemed amplified. I tried to focus on taking the clothes out of the laundry basket and getting them into the washer, but I was all too aware of every movement she made, even without seeing her. It was like every inch of my body could feel her.

A few minutes passed just like that, until suddenly, Bella was screaming bloody murder. I whipped around, my eyes wide and alert. She was crouched on top of a dryer on the right side of the room, her face a picture of sheer horror, her eyes wide and fixed on the floor.

"What?" I yelled.

She didn't look at me or say anything. She just pointed a thin, shaky finger down at the cement floor in front of the dryer. I furrowed my eyebrows and took a few steps forward, searching the area that she was pointing to.

"I don't see anything."

She leaned forward a little, gripping the edge of the machine with one hand, and pointed out a more precise spot.

"Right there." She said. Even high and frantic as it was, I almost got lost for a second in how good it felt to hear her voice.

I recovered and narrowed my eyes. I took another step forward, bending over to get a closer look at the ground. I straightened up with an exasperated sigh when I realized what she was screaming about.

"It's a fucking spider."

"It's huge!" She exclaimed.

I looked down at the little creature crawling across the floor. It had a fat black body and long skinny legs, but it couldn't have been more than two inches around.

"Bella, the thing is microscopic."

"I don't give a shit. Kill it!"

"I'm not going to kill it."

"Well, I'm not coming down until it's gone." She said stubbornly.

I shook my head at her, but she looked really shaken up about it, so I decided I couldn't just do nothing. I walked back over to where my clothes were and ripped the top off of the cardboard box of dryer sheets. I kneeled down to the ground and scooped the spider up on to it. Seeing it up close, I had to admit that it was bigger than I thought. And hairy, too. The thing was fucking ugly, but definitely not something to have a conniption over. I walked out of the laundry room and over to the window. I opened it and let the spider crawl out on to the asphalt, then I closed it and went back to the laundry room.

Bella had taken a more formal position, sitting on top of the dryer with her legs hanging over the front instead of folded underneath her like before.

I held up my hands. "There. It's gone. Happy?"

"Yes. Thank you." She said gratefully.

"You're really _that_ afraid of spiders?" I asked skeptically.

She nodded. "I'm arachnophobic."

"Of course you are." I muttered, then turned back to moving my clothes from the basket to the washing machine.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"Nothing. I'm done trying to figure you out." I said dismissively, without bothering to look at her.

I shoved four quarters into their designated spots and pushed the tray back into the machine. It took the coins, and I pushed a few more buttons to turn it on. It was quiet then for a few minutes, except for the whir of clothes turning in the washing machines and dryer, and the sound of Bella's feet banging against the front of the dryer she was sitting on.

"This really sucks, you know." She said quietly after a few minutes.

"Yeah, well maybe you should've thought about that before you decided to lie to me." I said, trying hard to keep my voice nonchalant.

Her feet abruptly stopped their rhythm against the metal, and I heard her take a deep breath. After a moment, I ran my hand through my hair and turned to face her with a sigh.

"Look, I owe you an apology."

She looked up at me, surprised and questioning.

"I said some really, really terrible things to you. No matter what the situation was, or is, you didn't deserve that. So, I'm sorry." She nodded once, and looked down at her feet.

After a long moment of silence, I felt the urge to explain myself further. "It's just that… I was so pissed off. You know that I have problems with my temper. But I didn't mean what I said, especially when I called you… well, what I called you. I just want you to know that I don't really think you're… that."

"Thanks." She whispered.

"Yeah." I said lamely.

I leaned back against the dryer beside the washer I was using, and stared down at the floor with my arms crossed over my chest. A few minutes later, the banging against the dryer across the room picked up again. I heard her take in a shaky breath, then exhale in a loud burst. The banging stopped.

"I'm sorry too, that I didn't tell you the truth. I didn't mean to keep anything from you. I really did think about telling you. I did. I just didn't know how. It's not like _that_ is something I could have just brought up in casual conversation, you know?"

"You could've found a way, Bella. Anything would have been better than how it went down." I looked up at her just in time to catch her flinching.

"That was definitely worst case scenario."

"Tell me about it." I scoffed to myself. "Mike fucking Newton."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you said that." I said shortly.

She bristled. "I didn't want you to find out like that, but I didn't have any other opportunity to tell you, Edward."

"You had plenty of fucking opportunities. We spent a lot of fucking time together."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I probably would've found a way. _Eventually_. But you have to realize that we haven't known each other for that long, Edward. And you know how I am, with all my problems… trust issues and shit. The only person who even knows what I do is Alice, and now you and Jasper."

"I get that. I do. But, we're friends, Bella. According to you, only tentative ones, but whatever. You shouldn't have kept that from me. I would've… understood, maybe. I don't know." I shook my head. "But see, now you're backpedaling, because you told me that night that you weren't even planning on telling me."

"_Yet_. I wasn't planning on telling you _yet_. Not, not at all." I cocked an eyebrow at her. "The thing is, I didn't even feel like I was lying to you. I was just… I don't know, _withholding_."

"That's stupid." I said.

"Maybe it is." She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Maybe I wanted you to get to know me as more than just 'the hooker down the hall'. I didn't want you to judge me solely based on my profession."

"You really think I would do that?"

She sat up a little straighter and looked square at me. "If you had found out that I was a call girl the first day we met, what would you have done?"

I pursed my lips, not sure how to answer that. I looked down at the concrete, searching for an answer, but finding nothing but cracks, chipped paint, and dirt.

"You wouldn't have bothered to talk to me. I would've been just another face you passed in the hallway, and maybe said 'hi' to sometimes." She shrugged.

"But that's not how it went down." I hedged.

"Maybe we would have been better off if it did."

"Do you actually believe that?"

She shrugged again. "I honestly don't know. I just know things would've been a lot different." She bit down on her bottom lip for a second. "But we'll never know, right? It's a waste of time to think about the 'what ifs'. We have to deal with the consequences of what _did_ happen."

I nodded and thought that over for a moment. In that instant, I made a decision. I could forgive her for keeping the truth from me. "I can get over the fact that you didn't tell me. I'm not even mad at you about that anymore, not really. The point is, I know now. What I'm more pissed about is that you do it _at all_." She furrowed her eyebrows. "There are so many twisted fucking people out there, Bella. You could be going to meet an ax murderer for all you know. There's so much bad shit that could happen to you."

"Occupational hazard." She said lightly.

"This is serious."

"I know. But that's not even an issue. I can take care of myself, Edward. I've been doing it for a long time."

I shook my head. "You're playing Russian Roulette with your life, and you don't even care."

She rolled her eyes at me. "You're hugely over exaggerating."

"Am I?"

"Every job has its risks. You work with cars every day, right? There's a possibility that a car could fall down and crush you when you're working on it, or you could get jammed up in one of the parts and lose a finger or something. Does that possibility stop you from doing your job?"

She was doing exactly what I expected from her. She was being stubborn and defiant, and nonchalant about something serious. She was trying to be deflective, and I wasn't going to let her.

"You're reaching, Bella."

"Really? Because I think I'm right on point. It's all about risk, right? That's what you're worried about. But everything has risks. The higher the risk, the higher the reward. I can make more money in one night than some people make in a month."

"But is it worth it? What amount of money could make selling your body and risking your safety okay with you?"

She was rolling her eyes at me once again. She was determined to take this lightly. "The money depends on a lot of things. The client negotiates a price with the agency, based on whether I'm escorting them to an event or something, or if it's just sex. Then, if they have certain preferences or fetishes, that's a factor. Like-" I cringed, and she kindly stopped. "Well, I won't go into detail. You get the point. With my agency, the client pays them the 20% up front –that's what they charge the escorts as a booking fee –and I get my cut after the job is done. On an average night, I take in about $1200 an hour."

I was taken back by the sizeable figure. "$1200 an _hour?_ That's… no joke."

"I know. I don't work with just anyone. These are wealthy men. It's not as dangerous as you think."

I couldn't agree with that. I knew wealthy men; I'd been around them my whole life. The fact that they had money in the bank didn't mean shit. They were just as likely to be fucking twisted in the head as any other person. Maybe even more so. But I didn't want to fight with her about it anymore. I knew that any further arguing would either end in an impasse or more yelling, and I had done enough fighting with her already to last me for a while.

"So, if you make that much money, why do you live here?" I asked, reiterating a question she had asked me weeks ago.

"I guess I could buy a loft, or a condo, or rent out a nice penthouse in the city if I wanted to." She shrugged her shoulders. "I just think saving money is a lot more practical." A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips. "My father instilled the value of a dollar in me before I could even walk. He used to say, 'Just because you have it, Bells, that doesn't mean you have to spend it.' And I live by that." She sighed and glanced around the laundry room. "Besides, I don't think I could leave this place even if I tried."

"Why not?" I asked, puzzled by the pensive look on her face. There it was, once again. I was so intrigued by just _knowing_ her that the fight we had just been having was virtually nonexistent in my mind. I was a sucker for this woman.

"This is home to me. Pretty much the only safe home I've had since I was little. Right smack dab in the middle of Brooklyn." She said with a vague laugh. Then her bottom lip was between her teeth again, and she looked up at me. "Did I ever tell you that my Dad filed for custody of me before he died?"

"No." I said, surprised.

She nodded. "He won sole custody. I was supposed to move in with him permanently, two weeks after he died. Ironic, huh?" She scoffed and shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know why I always bring up this sad crap." She sighed. "Anyways, this is my home now. I'm stuck here. Maybe now more than ever."

She said the last part so low that I didn't know if that was really what she said, let alone if I was meant to hear it.

We sat in silence for a long moment. She stared down at the floor, gnawing on her bottom lip, while I stared anywhere but at her.

And then she sighed again. "I was afraid." She said softly.

"What?" I asked, stepping away from the machine at my back and moving closer to her, almost unconsciously.

"I really did want to tell you. Everything." She looked up at me and shook her head. Her velvet brown eyes were swimming with a sad vulnerability that I didn't recognize from her. "But I was so afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"This." She said, gesturing between us. "You hating me because of it. You looking at me with disgust on your face, just like you did that night… just like you're trying not to do now."

And I knew that she could see how hard it was for me to look at her, see the effort in my eyes. But she had it wrong. There was not one part of me that hated her or was disgusted by her, even knowing what I knew now. It was hard for me to look at her because she was everything I wanted, everything I shouldn't want, and everything I couldn't have. I was positive now that I could never have her.

"I don't hate you, Bella. And you don't disgust me."

"Sure seems that way." She mumbled. "And you have every right to."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I have reason enough to never speak to you again. Maybe I _should_ hate you. Hell, it would definitely be a lot easier if I did." I shrugged and moved a few steps closer to her perch. "But I can't."

"So what does that mean?"

"That I don't want to fight with you anymore. I think we did enough of that shit two weeks ago. And I know I went about it all wrong, yelling at you, and you were wrong too. But all I want is… I'm just trying to protect something that's important to me. _You_."

Her head snapped up. "I'm important to you?"

I laughed. "Really? You haven't figured that out by now?"

A halfhearted smirk lifted one side of her unbalanced lips. "I guess we wouldn't be fighting if I wasn't, right?"

"Yelling and swearing at you is kind of my way of showing that I care. I wouldn't get so mad if I didn't. I wouldn't waste my breath otherwise."

"Well, thanks. You're important to me too, you know." She looked into my eyes. "I really appreciate that you care about me, Edward, but that doesn't mean I'm going to apologize for something that I've been doing since long before we ever met. I can't say I'm sorry that I'm a call girl. I might not be proud of what I do… but I'm not ashamed of it either."

"Well, I can't pretend to be okay with it."

"I don't expect you to be."

"Then what _do_ you expect? What do you _want_, Bella?"

She looked down at her feet and started swinging her legs again, the metal clanked loudly as it took hits from the backs of her sneakers. She chewed on her bottom lip for a long time, gripping the edge of the dryer on either side of her legs with both hands. I ran my hand through my hair in the silence.

"I want…" She started slowly, "to have the chance to say goodbye, if this is really it. I know, that sounds stupid, because we live right across the hall from each other, so it could never really be goodbye, since we'll see each other all the time, but…" she paused, probably recognizing that she was rambling, and took a deep breath. "What I mean is, if this is the end of our… friendship, I don't want to just leave it the way it was that night." She nodded. "Closure. I guess what I want is closure."

I stared at her for a minute while she stared down at her feet, and I came to another decision.

"What makes you so sure this is the end?"

She looked up at me, arching an eyebrow. "Because of what I am. Because you deserve to have people in your life who don't lie to you."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"Well, you seem so determined to make this goodbye, but what if I don't want it to be? Shouldn't what I want count, too?"

"Of course it matters. But I don't see why you wouldn't want it. I hurt you." She shook her head. "I'm not good for you. I don't deserve your forgiveness, or your friendship."

"Fuck what you deserve, okay? Fuck what I deserve. I don't care about that." I was aware that my voice was rising, becoming almost frantic. It was embarrassing, but I didn't want her to make this some grand scene of goodbye. I wanted to mend this, even if it didn't make sense to want that. "I had my mind made up that I wasn't going to see you or talk to you anymore. I was sure of it. Until I walked in here and saw you standing there. That's all it takes, Bella. One look, and none of it matters."

"What are you saying?" She whispered.

"You mean too much to me to let you go now."

"That's exactly why you should. Don't you see, Edward? I can never be what you want. I can't give you what you want from me."

"I know that, okay? I've always known that. You've been straight up with me from the beginning about that. Before, I thought that maybe I could change it… but now I know I can't. You can't do what you do and be with someone. I get that. I don't expect anything from you."

She ran her hand through her hair. "I should never have let this keep going, when I knew we were in it for different things."

"That doesn't matter. Like you said, there's no going back." I paused for a second. "I'm selfish enough to still want you. Whatever you can give me, I'll take."

Silence fell over us, and my heart started beating faster as I thought about what she could say next. _What if she tells me that she can't give me anything? What will I do then?_

"And I'm selfish enough to let you." She said, and my heart slowed back to normal. She shook her head and looked up at me. "So, what now? We're just supposed to torture ourselves by staying friends?"

I shrugged. "It beats not having you around at all."

She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it with a small sigh. She nodded. "Yeah, it does." Her lower lip was between her teeth again. "But it's selfish of me to want that."

I walked the last few feet toward her, and stopped when I was right in front of her. Her position on the dryer made her a few inches taller than me. I lifted my hand and laid it against her cheek, cupping it to her face. She leaned into it and closed her eyes, her face relaxing at my touch. After a split second, she opened her eyes, and then they narrowed. She pulled my hand away from her cheek and in front of her face. She studied the brace on my left hand, that little crease reappearing between her brows.

"What happened?"

"I…" I figured it would be best not to lie to her. Lies got us into this mess in the first place. "I tried to put my fist through a wall, and broke it."

She smirked. "Your fist, or the wall?"

I smiled at her innate humor. "My fist. Didn't even make a dent in the wall." I shrugged. "Maybe next time, I'll go for plaster instead of brick."

Her eyes sparked, and her heard jerked up. "You punched a _brick_ wall?" I nodded.

She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped my hand. "Because of me." She whispered.

"Don't." I said.

"All I do is hurt you." She shook her head. "I'm toxic."

"Don't talk like that." I said, getting angry. We had just been making progress, and here she had to go blaming herself for everything, as usual. "Stop with all this self deprecating shit."

Her eyes flashed open. "Shit like this is exactly why you're better off just staying away from me."

"Is that what you want, then?" I asked, annoyance plain in my tone.

"If we keep being… whatever we are, all I'm going to do is hurt you again and again. Emotionally, physically… I'm bad for you. I can never make you happy, Edward. Ever."

"You already do that. I _am_ happy when I'm around you."

"No, you think you are. But that's not happiness, Edward, that's… something else."

"Something else? What are you-" I laughed humorlessly. "Why are you fighting this so hard?"

"Because I know that I'm not good for you." She said, and moved to jump down from the dryer. I stepped in front of her and put my hands on top of the machine on either side of her legs, blocking her from going anywhere. She looked down at me and her eyes were tight and defensive.

"I think I've already made it clear that I don't care about that." I said adamantly.

"I _do_ care." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't _make_ me hurt you."

"It doesn't have to hurt, Bella. Friendships don't hurt." She scoffed. "Fine. If I get hurt, that's on me. Not you. I know what I'm getting myself into. I know what keeping you in my life means, and that's on me if it comes back and bites me in the ass." She kept her eyes down. "It's all about risk, right?" I said, repeating her words from just a little while ago. She looked up at me, and I shrugged. "I'm willing to take that risk."

I watched as her eyes softened, and she accepted defeat. We were both too selfish to stay away from each other, even though we both knew we should. But I didn't care. All that mattered to me at that moment was that she was still going to be in my life.

"And what about my work?" She asked softly.

I sighed. "I'm just going to have to deal with it, I guess."

"It's not fair for me to ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask. I'm telling you that I will."

The sides of her mouth lifted minutely, then fell again. She shook her head. "It's not going to be like it was before."

"No, it's not." I agreed. I cradled her face between my hands and looked into her eyes. "But it'll be okay."

And then, I almost didn't recognize the woman in front of me. She looked so broken and fragile, like she was letting everything that was bottled up inside of her show on her face. I realized that this whole thing was tearing her apart inside. She cared about me enough that it hurt her, but also so much that she wanted to stay away from me just as much as she wanted to be around me. I knew it, because it was exactly the way I felt for her.

She reached out her tiny hand and fisted it in the front of my shirt, but she didn't pull me toward her. She left it there tentatively. I looked up into her eyes and wrapped my hand around her wrist, pulling it away from my shirt. She released her fingers without a fight, and just when I saw her face starting to fall, I took her other hand from beside her and pulled both of her arms on to my shoulders. I took one step closer so that my hips were flush against the dryer, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her tight, sliding her closer to me. I buried my face in her neck and inhaled her scent greedily; her hair smelled like apples, fresh and sweet and 100% Bella. I felt her tighten her arms around my shoulders, bury one hand in the back of my hair, and press her face to the top of my head.

We relaxed into each other in a way we never had before. Maybe it was because we had spent two weeks without so much as looking at each other, or because we were both so relieved to have this thing between us solved. Whatever it was, it felt so good just to have her in my arms again.

I don't know how long we stood there, just like that, holding on to each other, but when we finally pulled apart, I found it damn near impossible to put distance between us. My hands stayed at her waist, my thumbs tracing idle circles on her stomach. Her arms lay limply on my shoulders, and she stared down into my eyes as I stared up into hers. After a moment, I was startled to see her eyes filling up with tears. It was so unlike her.

I took my hands away from her torso and brought them up to cradle her face. She once again leaned into my touch, and I wiped away a stray tear with the pad of my thumb.

"Okay?" I asked in a whisper.

She nodded and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to mine. She squeezed her eyes shut, and sighed in what sounded like relief. I closed my eyes, too.

I felt something changing in the air between us. It was palpable enough that it made my eyes snap open. I looked at her, which wasn't hard to do, since her face was inches from mine. Her eyes opened too, and they were different, like smoldering, melted chocolate, as they bored down into mine. I was sure that as I stared back at her, I was matching her intensity.

Without a conscious command from my mind to my muscles telling it to, my face started to tilt upwards, my mouth searching for contact with hers. Her face leaned down toward me, our mouths like magnets moving at an excruciatingly slow pace to meet each other. Her eyes flickered between my eyes and my lips, and I mirrored her actions. Every time I glanced down at her lips, I became hungrier for the kiss, but it was almost like I was unable to move any faster toward her. We continued the painfully slow journey, inch by agonizing inch, and now we were getting so close; our mouths were mere centimeters apart.

BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!

The annoying sound startled us both, and we jumped and pulled away from each other slightly. I sourly whipped my head toward the source of the noise. The dryer she was using was buzzing, signaling that the cycle was done. She turned her face back to me, and her eyelids were heavy. My breathing was shallow from the heavy anticipation.

"I-M-My clothes are done." She said breathily.

"I can see that." I answered quietly.

"I-I should probably get them."

"Yeah."

She nodded. "Okay."

Her tongue flicked out to lick her lips, and I was so jealous of it. Then she dropped her arms from my shoulders, and I took a step back to give her room to get down. She hopped off of the dryer and of course, being her, she landed wrong and almost went toppling over. I caught her arm and steadied her.

"Thanks." She said, a deep red blush warming her cheeks.

"No problem."

I watched her as she pulled her clothes out of the dryer and shoved them into a big, red laundry bag.

"I should probably get one of those." I said distractedly. "Carrying that laundry basket is a bitch."

"Yeah, you should. It's way easier." She answered in the same detached tone.

In my mind, I was punching myself in the gut. _That's the way you plan on showing her that you're capable of being _just her friend_? Great job, genius._

My washer buzzed when she was just about done getting all of her clothes into the sack. I went over and switched the clothes from the washer to the dryer, fed it four quarters, and turned it on. When I turned back around, Bella was pulling the drawstring closed.

"Are you all done?" I asked.

"Yeah." She said.

"Oh. That's good." I scratched the back of my head.

"I-I could stay down here with you. You know, if you want some company."

"You don't have to do that." I said. "But you can, if you want to. I'd really like it if you did."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Afraid of the Boogie Man?" She taunted me.

I rolled my eyes, but I was grateful for the broken tension. "Afraid of the big, bad spider?" I teased back.

She grimaced. "Not funny. Those things are disgusting, and malicious, and I swear they _hunt_ me down."

"Yes, Bella, every single spider on the planet is out to get you."

"You think you're joking."

"You do know that no matter where you are, you're never more than six feet away from a spider at all times, right?"

She cringed and squirmed. "Ick. Was it really necessary to tell me that?"

"I just thought you should know." I said, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing.

"That's not something you tell an arachnophobe, jerk off. Now, when I can't fall asleep for fear of being attacked by Bella-eating spiders, I'm coming knocking at _your_ door at all hours of the night."

"Don't worry. I won't let them get you."

She rolled her eyes. "Very reassuring." Then she cringed again. I laughed, and she swatted me in the stomach.

We were both dying for a cigarette, so Bella showed me a little hidden nook in the back of the storage area of the basement where she snuck smokes while she did laundry, even though we technically weren't supposed to be smoking in the building. She stayed down there with me for nearly an hour after that, until my clothes were done drying. We didn't talk the entire time, but we weren't quiet or awkward either. Every silent moment was companionable. It wasn't quite how it was before, but it was good enough. I instinctively knew that there would always be an underlying tension between us now, but we would just have to accept it as a part of our relationship.

After my clothes were done, we hauled our clean laundry on to the elevator. When we reached our floor, we walked side by side to our doors. That's when the stalemate began. I stopped in front of my door and she stopped in front of hers, and we both turned back to look at each other. I could see it in her face; she didn't want to walk away any more than I did.

I opened my mouth to speak at the same time she did, and then closed it again at the same time. I laughed awkwardly, and she bit down on her lower lip.

"Hey, do you want to come over for dinner?" She asked hesitantly.

I thought about it for half a second. "Absolutely."

I opened the door to my apartment and dropped my laundry basket in the front hall. Then I crossed the hall to join her in front of her door. She opened it and I followed her inside. Her cat was at my feet right away, rubbing up against my shins, looking up at me and meowing while his tail swished. I bent down and scratched him under his chin. I was never really a cat person, but for some reason, this little guy grew on me.

Bella put her laundry bag down in the living room and looked back over her shoulder at me. She smiled.

"Little P missed you." She said, but it sounded like she was trying to say something else.

I picked the cat up and smiled pointedly at Bella. "Yeah, I missed him too."

I walked past her into the main room and plopped down on the couch. I put the cat down beside me, but he had other ideas. Paul climbed up on to my lap and stood up with his paws on my chest, licking my face. I laughed.

"You boys play nice while I whip us up some grub." Bella said, and shot me a smile before she went into the kitchen.

No, this wouldn't be like before. We had a fight ahead of us. She was still just as stubborn and I was a hothead, and her job was going to cause a lot of problems between us. Not to mention the fact that I was insanely jealous of any guy who even laid a finger on her. But I got the feeling that we were both in this –friendship? Relationship? Whatever –for the long haul, no matter what was thrown at us. What I knew for certain was that she didn't like being apart from me, and that was enough for now.

*****

**Okay, my babies. We can all breath a collective sigh of relief!**

**Just a warning; the posting over the next month-1/2 is going to be erratic, because I'm going to be doing my best to help my brother recuperate. Please just be patient with me and don't give up on this! I promise I won't abandon this story until it's done. (And it is NOWHERE near done). Leave me lots of love and I'll have something for you as soon as possible! Bye for now.**


	12. Chapter 12

_**REPOST: I realized after posting this chapter initially that there were a lot of errors I didn't correct! I'm so sorry for giving you guys less than my perfected work. : (**_

**Hello again my babies! Okay, so once again, I apologize for taking so long. Things are going a lot smoother in my life now, so posting shouldn't be as few and far between from here on out.**

**This post is a MONSTER. It's huge. I had to cut a lot of scenes out because it was going on and on and on. But everything vital to the story is still in here, and to be honest, it flows a lot better without the excess.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.**

*****

**BPOV**

_You are a coward. You're weak, and selfish, and a coward._

I threw the butt of my cigarette over the railing, with more force than necessary, and ducked back in through the window. Edward had just left for work, and I watched him pull his car out into the street from my fire escape. My stomach clenched and unclenched itself sporadically as the tail end of the Camaro pulled around the corner and out of sight.

In more ways than one, Sunday had been the best day I'd had in weeks. I felt distinctly lighter, having the weight of the tension between us lifted from my shoulders, and I knew he felt it too. It was an odd sort of relief, like I had just been under the influence of a crippling pain, and the source of it was finally letting up. The pain was still there, just much less magnified.

It didn't work out quite how I thought it would. I knew that, eventually, we would have to talk through things. Make a break. I thought he would want to say goodbye. I was certain he wouldn't want me in his life anymore, and frankly, I wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't. But he took me by surprise, just like he always seemed to. He wanted whatever I could give him. My only consternation was that what I _could_ give him wasn't much. Despite that fact, there was no doubt in my mind that I would let him try.

_Selfish, selfish, SELFISH!_

I pushed the stubborn faucet over to the left, then worked it around to the right for the hot water. I turned my back on the rapidly fogging mirror as I undressed, too ashamed to look at myself, to see the coward in the glass.

I'd always considered myself to be a strong person. Tenacious. When it came to making decisions, deciding what to do was always the part I agonized over; once the decision was made, I didn't let anything get in my way of seeing them through.

I shook my head. I couldn't fool myself anymore. Nothing about me was the way it used to be. I was changed. Every Teflon tough part of me had been worn down to a tenuous barrier, no sturdier than a piece of plastic wrap.

It was strange, though, because I was still oddly the same. I was still stubborn, blunt, snarky, and cynical. So maybe I wasn't entirely changed; maybe it was just the barrier around my heart that had been penetrated.

I snorted out loud at myself. _My heart_. Now there's something I haven't thought about in a long time.

I stepped into the shower and let the hot water flow down in ribbons over my hair and body, caressing my skin and loosening the tension in my back. I closed my eyes and thought back over the encounter in the laundry room, for the millionth time this morning.

In my defense, I tried to put up a fight. I really did; I tried _so_ hard. What was I expected to do when the one person who ever truly got to me stood in front of me, vowing to take me for who I am? Everything I am, flaws and all, just to have me in his life, without any expectations? In the end, my selfish need for him broke my resolve and I gave in.

I scoffed at myself again, because that was a fucking outright lie, and I knew it. I lost the fight long before he told me he still wanted me in his life. As soon as he walked into that room and I saw his scruffy face, and smelled that scent that drove me crazy –tobacco, and soap, and cinnamon –I knew I was a goner.

And I didn't get off scot-free. Edward and I hadn't spent much time together over the past two days, but every moment I did spend with him was spent with throbbing, painful fears in the back of my mind. The first thing I was afraid of was hurting him. Because above all else, I needed for Edward to be all right. Something about him brought out the protective side of me, one I didn't even know existed, irrational as it was. My concern for him seemed to dupe self-preservation, and it didn't hurt that right now, what he seemed to want and need was me.

That was exactly why he couldn't know that he _had_ me. He did too, he had me good; I didn't know it at the time, but from the moment we met, he had me. And he could never know that.

Then there was the second, more nagging fear; the one that kept me constantly on edge. I was terrified that he would come to his senses and walk away from me for good. This was both a fear, and a vain hope. I knew I wasn't good for him, and I knew he was smart enough that he would realize it soon enough. Some things just weren't worth fighting, and even though I knew I would fight to the death to keep him in my life, I also knew that I wasn't worth his effort.

It was a thin, fragile, tight rope of a line to walk, trying to balance my selfish attachment to him with my need for him to be okay.

I leaned my head against the cool tile wall and rubbed my hands over my face. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ I was supposed to be stronger than this; I was supposed to be able to separate what I felt from what I knew was right. I guess I could use the excuse that I was new to the whole emotional attachment shit… the whole emotional shit, period.

I knew what it was like to hate, to respect, to care, to miss, to mourn… even to love, to a certain degree. Rudimentary feelings were familiar to me. And I knew what it was like not to feel at all. But this? The feelings I felt around Edward… they didn't even compute.

I could rationalize it all I wanted. I could go on for days making up excuses for myself, but it all came down to one concrete fact; I was selfish.

Aggravated with no one but myself, I jerked the faucet off and got out of the shower. After I toweled off, scrubbing myself a little too hard as some bizarre form of punishment, I ventured out to my dresser to find something to put on. I clicked on my radio as I walked by, and groaned when Elvis started bellowing 'Blue Christmas' from the speakers. With all due respect to the King, I slammed my finger down on the off button.

_Christmas. Just fucking peachy._

This time of year was always hard for me, only because it represented something I never really had. Family. I never even had a conventional holiday growing up; I cooked dinner on Thanksgiving and ate it alone in my bedroom. On Christmas, it was rare that we ever had a tree, and the only gift I received was some money thrown into one of those cheap gift bags from the pharmacy. I was too young to remember any Christmases I had with my Dad. So getting through the holidays was actually easier than anyone would think, because I never had to think about what I was missing. I didn't have anything to miss.

I knew that one of the biggest reasons I was able to get through Christmas without a break down was because of the numbness I could no longer find. I shuddered to think of what it would've been like these past three years to have to _feel_ through the holidays. For that, in a way, I was grateful for the recent influx of drama in my life. It kept my mind off the season, and I honestly didn't even realize that Christmas was less than a week away until I called my doctor's office on Monday to schedule a check up, and was met with the machine telling me that Dr. Gerandy was on vacation until the third, and to have a Merry Christmas.

The only good thing about it being Christmas time was that it meant a week and a half off of work for me. No one wanted a call girl during Christmas, unless they were really horny or seriously needed some help. It was supposed to be a kind of sacred time for those who had families, and I could respect that.

I didn't work on New Year's either, because I just didn't want to deal. The clients during that night were usually college kids, trust fund brats, and they got a little rowdy for my taste. Plus, some of them couldn't grasp the concept that when you're paying a woman for sex, she is _not_, I repeat, NOT your fucking girlfriend. I left those clients for the rookies to handle.

I picked up one of my records off the shelf and slid the vinyl out of the case. It was the newest addition to my collection; I'd bought it on eBay as a Christmas present to myself, and it had just gotten delivered yesterday. Sure, it had cost me a pretty penny, but it was in good condition, and to me, Hey Jude was worth every cent.

I put the vinyl onto my ancient record player, that miraculously still worked pretty damn well, placed the needle to the vinyl, and listened through a few seconds of static before Paul McCartney's voice came streaming into the room.

I sang along with 'Can't Buy Me Love' and danced around my apartment in my underwear, looking for something suitable to wear. It was Tuesday, and Alice was dragging me to an art gallery in SoHo. Eric Yorkie, her downstairs neighbor, was an art student and had somehow managed to convince one of his friends who worked at the gallery to get his work featured. I pulled on a nice pair of dark skinny jeans and a brown and white striped sweater. If that didn't cut the dress code, I would gladly tell them where they could shove it.

A few hours later, Alice and I were passing from room to room in the small but trendy space, sipping cheap champagne and pretending we had half an iota of an idea of what the hell we were looking at. In my opinion, Eric's pieces weren't half bad. He used a lot of bold colors set against neutrals, and incorporated hip, kind of trippy designs. It was funky and eccentric, and definitely Eric's style. Of course, I was nowhere near an expert on any form of art, so it could've been crap for all I knew. But I liked it.

"So, what are you going to do now?" I asked Alice as we mulled over a sculpture made by a different artist.

We had been talking about how everything had been going since she left the agency. She and Jasper were doing great, and there was a smile on her face and a light in her eyes that I'd never seen before. She was genuinely, exuberantly happy.

"I've been thinking, a lot-"

"I told you, you shouldn't do that too much. You might hurt yourself." I quipped.

She threw an elbow at me, and I dodged it, almost knocking over a display table in the process. I steadied the table and blushed a hundred different shades of red when half the people in the room turned to stare at me.

"As I was saying…" Alice said, grabbing my elbow and steering me into another room. "I guess I'm going to try to find a job waiting tables again, or bartending, or something in retail. Just in the meantime."

"Until what?"

"I'm planning on starting checking out available spaces after the New Year. If I find something, then I'll apply for a loan at the bank."

"To open your boutique?" I asked incredulously.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"You can't."

"What?" She said, raising her dainty eyebrows.

"I just mean, the chances of you getting a loan aren't very good, Al. You don't have any form of income, and the agency wasn't exactly an 'on the books job'. You'd have to have collateral."

"I know all this." She shrugged. "But I have to try."

The crestfallen look on her face had me kicking myself in the ass, but I knew I was right to question her. Alice was hopelessly optimistic, to the point where she sometimes didn't take the reality of things into account. That's why we worked so well together; I kept her grounded, and she kept my head above water.

"I mean, I have some money saved up. It's at least a good 50 grand, maybe more. That can get me started at least, right?"

I chewed on my lip for a moment. I had a lot more than 50 grand in the bank. Between what my father left me, and all the money I'd saved up over the past fourteen years, I had a few hundred thousand in there.

"I'll tell you what –I'll give you the money."

Her head snapped up. "No, Bella. I can't let you do that."

"I won't take no for an answer. Alice, I have plenty of money in the bank. You know I save a hell of a lot more than I spend, so it's just sitting there. I might as well put it toward something useful. I can't think of any better use for it than to help you make your dream come true."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. You would do it for me."

She nodded. "In a heartbeat."

"Exactly." I smiled. "So, it's settled then."

She launched herself at me and threw her arms around my waist. "I can't believe you're really going to do this for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. You're the bestest best friend ever."

I hugged her back. "I love you too, Pix." I let out a breathless laugh. "Now can you, uh, loosen your grip a little? I can't breathe."

She pulled back. "Sorry." She said with a sheepish smile. Alice's hugs were like death grips, and she knew it too. "I promise I will pay you back every single penny. And you don't even have to get me a Christmas present this year."

"Good, because I had no idea what the fuck I was going get you anyways."

Her smile was still beaming as she grabbed two glasses of champagne from a server passing by us. She handed one to me and I took a sip.

"Well, I already bought your present. And you are going to LOOOOVVVVEEE it. _Love_. Like, I'm kind of afraid you might take it to a drive through chapel and try to marry it."

"Alice, did you kidnap Paul McCartney?" I said excitedly.

She rolled her eyes. "No. Sorry. I love you, Bella, but not enough to commit criminal acts for you."

"Hey, I'm funding your future, here. The least you could do is fly to Liverpool and take my dream man hostage against his will."

"I _did_ consider it. But I was afraid that if I used too much force, he might break a hipbone. You know how fragile those old folks are." She smirked.

I gaped at her. "Blasphemy." I spat.

"Realism." She sang, and I glared at her. "Speaking of dream men who may or may not be willing…all quiet on the Edward front?"

I rolled my eyes, but let it go. "Yeah. Everything's fine now."

"But you're still going to find something to stress about." She said matter-of-factly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that little crease between your eyebrows that tells me you're _brooding_."

"I do not _brood_."

"Whatever. Personally, I think you're both insane." She said as she ran her hand over the frame of a painting. I wasn't paying attention to the art anymore.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

She looked at me and held her hands up in front of her. "Oh, no. I'm keeping my mouth shut on this one."

"You already opened it."

"I'm shoving the worms back in the can. And closing the lid. Tight."

I scoffed. "Who are you, and what have you done with Alice Mary Brandon?"

"I am someone who does not want to get a sculpture broken over their head."

"Now I'm intrigued. Say what's on your mind, Alice."

"Okay." She turned to me with a condescending smile. "What are you wearing to my New Year's party?"

"You're just looking to push my buttons today, aren't you?" I griped.

She shrugged. "It keeps life interesting."

"Oh yeah. What could possibly be more entertaining than driving me nuts at a cheesy art exhibit?"

"Shh. You're going to offend the artists." I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting. "Your wardrobe is a lot more crucial than my opinions on your personal life." My eyebrows shot up, and I scoffed. Never, in a million years, would I expect to hear that sentence come out of her mouth. "What are you wearing?"

I relented, figuring this wasn't the place to start prying Alice's thoughts from her. It was actually pretty strange that I would _want_ to. Usually, the problem was that she _wouldn't_ shut up.

"I don't know yet."

"Are you going to buy something new?"

I shrugged. "I'll find something. Maybe I'll finally wear that purple dress you made me get."

"Bella, we bought that dress _months_ ago. You haven't worn it yet?"

I shook my head. "It still has the tags on it."

She huffed. "Why do you even buy pretty clothes if you never wear them?"

"Because I have you as a best friend, and you practically blackmail me into buying ridiculous outfits."

She rolled her eyes. "You can't wear that, anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because _that_ is too casual. This is a_ party_. You need a _party_ dress." She sighed exasperatedly. "God, has being friends with me taught you nothing?"

"It's taught me that I hate shopping." I qualified, hiding my smirk by taking a sip of champagne.

She shook her head at me, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Alice, what's the point of buying a new dress that's probably just going to end up covered in sweat and booze anyways? I'm sure I have something lying around."

She sighed. "I suppose I'll just have to pick out something for you myself, then."

"Have fun. Go nuts." I said, throwing my hands up dramatically.

"Don't tempt me." She smirked, and my smile died out.

We meandered around for a little while longer, and I was already bored out of my mind. I made a mental note to fake a life threatening illness the next time I got invited to one of these things. Art wasn't my thing at all. But I was here now, and I had to show my support for Eric, so I stuck it out. I checked out all the odds and ends and displays with little interest, my mind wandering aimlessly as I pretended to be rapt with the works of art. From the look on Alice's face, I would guess she was somewhere between daydreaming about Jasper, and mentally planning out what her boutique was going to look like.

My mind was on recipes for shortbread cookies when I stopped in front of one painting, and my whole attitude about the day changed. My eyes locked on it, and I was completely drawn in for some inexplicable reason. It struck a chord inside of me, and Edward's face bubbled to the forefront of my mind. I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes, studying it. Eric happened to walk by me at that moment, and I grabbed him by the arm. He turned to me with a huge grin on his face.

"Hi, Bella."

"Eric, is this one of yours?" I asked, nodding toward the painting.

"Yes. Why?"

"It's… I don't know. It like, speaks to me. Does that make sense?"

He beamed. "Yeah. I'm glad you like it." He started in on explaining the colors and textures, and the idea behind the painting. All of which I didn't give two shits about, so I cut him off.

"Will you sell it to me?"

"What?"

"How much do you want for it?" I pressed.

"Really? You want to_ buy_ one of _my_ paintings?" He looked awestruck.

I nodded. "How much?"

He scratched the back of his neck while looking at his work. "Uh, I don't know."

"I'll give you two hundred for it."

His eyes widened. "Really, Bella?"

I had no idea how much art went for. I hoped I wasn't offending him by aiming too low. "Is that okay? Or do you want more for it?"

"No. Two hundred bucks. That's… more than okay."

"Cool. So it's a deal then?"

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainly.

"Yes. I want this painting." I said vehemently.

"It's yours, then."

I whipped out my checkbook and started writing out a check for two hundred dollars.

"We can take care of that after the show." He said.

"Okay. Perfect."

"Thanks, Bella." He grabbed me up in a hug, and I patted his back awkwardly. "You just gave me my first sale ever."

"No problem. Thank _you_."

Eric released me and, with a huge smile of accomplishment on his face, he walked away. Alice was staring at me like I had spontaneously sprouted seven heads and a tail.

"What?"

"Since when do you buy art?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Since now."

She shook her head and looked at the painting. "You baffle me sometimes."

"I baffle _myself_ sometimes." I laughed.

*

The morning of Christmas Eve, I woke up in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep. I was relieved that for once, it wasn't from screaming myself awake. I actually had a smile on my face. I hopped out of bed, made a mad dash for the window through the pitch-blackness, and threw open the curtains.

My smile widened as I looked out upon the fluffs of white falling swiftly from the sky, accumulating on the street and sidewalk, obstructing the windshields of parked cars. I pressed my hand to the window, and the cold glass fogged up from the warmth radiating from my fingertips. I trained my eyes to the spot just under the orange glow of the streetlight, where it was easiest to see the drifting snow. Paul jumped out of his scratching post house and trudged over to me, curious. I sank down onto the floor and pulled him into my lap, rubbing his sides while I watched the falling snowflakes with utter fascination.

It was strange, the way the silence of snowfall always woke me up. When I was a little girl, I used to hate the snow. I hated the wet and the cold, and it took moving to New York for me to finally appreciate the beauty of it. I couldn't imagine living anywhere without it now. There was nothing that put me more at peace than watching it fall from the sky.

I watched the beauty of Mother Nature for a long time, until the light dusting below turned to a thick blanket, until my eyelids grew heavy. I carried Little P back to bed and fell back into a restful sleep.

I woke up a few hours later and promptly bundled up, preparing to make the journey to Alice's. She and Jasper were spending Christmas day with his family, so we were having our holiday time together today. They were spending the night at Alice's and heading up to his parents' in the morning. Edward had already left the night before and was staying there until the day after Christmas, which meant I wouldn't see him for a few days. That bothered me more than it should.

Successfully having made my journey through the snow covered streets of New York, I stomped my boots on the mat outside of Alice's apartment. They were covered in snow, and after a few more failed attempts at getting it all off, I decided to just take them off. I put them to the side of the door and opened the door, walking in with a loaf of my pumpkin chocolate chip gingerbread and a bottle of Pinot Noir in hand. I was a little bit nervous. It was the first time I would actually be seeing Jasper since he'd found out that I was a call girl, and I was prepared for him to be frosty toward me. But I was pleasantly surprised.

"Hi, Bella." He said, standing up from the couch when I walked in.

"Hey, Jasper. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." He said as he walked over to me. "Let me take those for you."

I handed him the bag of goodies. "Thanks."

He pulled open the hands and looked inside. "What's in the box?" He asked.

"Pumpkin chocolate chip gingerbread."

"Oh, yeah. My brother told me you're a baking machine."

"I try." I smiled.

I took off my coat and turned to hang it up in the hall closet. "Where's the short one?" I asked.

"She's in the kitchen getting dinner ready."

I froze with my hands on the hanger and looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh no. Has she told you the rule? She's not, under any circumstances, allowed to turn on the stove-"

"Except to boil the kettle. Yeah. She's just putting the takeout on plates."

I sighed in relief and closed the closet door. "Oh. Good. You scared me for a second."

He laughed and led the way over to the couch. I bit my lip, because there was something I knew I had to say to him, but I was afraid to broach the subject. Sucking in a deep breath, I told myself I might as well get it over with.

"Jasper?" I said hesitantly as he was about to sit down.

He straightened back up and looked at me. "Yeah?"

"Um…" I lifted my chin, putting myself into defense mode. "Look, I get it if you don't like me or whatever. I mean, if I were you, I probably wouldn't like me too much either. But-"

He cut me off. "I don't have any problem with you, Bella. What you do is no business of mine."

I was taken aback by that. "I just… I know you probably don't think it's a good idea for Edward to be friends with me, and-"

"This is about Rosalie, right? I know that she kind of warded you off of Edward." I nodded curtly, and I heard him sigh.

"Does Edward know that I talked to her?" I asked.

I was surprised to hear him laugh, and I looked up at him. "Are you kidding? No, darlin'. He'd probably rip her head off if he did." He put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't stress about her too much. Rose is just really protective of Edward –sometimes overprotective. She's kind of been Edward's rock since, well, since my parents adopted him. She helped him through a lot of stuff, and they're really close. So, she means well, but sometimes she goes a little over the top." He smiled at me. "As for me, I don't think it's my place to decide who Edward should or shouldn't hang out with."

I sighed. "I can't really be mad at her for not wanting me to be around him though. It just kind of sucks, because I felt like I could've been good friends with her, and she's probably going to hate me when she finds out that we're friends again. Not that I blame her." I looked up at him. "But I want us to be okay at least, because you're a part of Alice's life now and she's basically my sister-"

"We're good. Really. Sorry I keep cutting you off, but you don't have to explain anything to me. Me and you are cool."

"Thanks, Jasper."

"Is that my Jingle Bells I hear?" Alice shouted as she came out of the kitchen, deftly balancing three plates and three wine glasses. She was always a better waitress than me; I spent most of the time trying not to trip over my own feet.

"If you call me that one more time, I swear I'll throw up on you."

She shot me a smug smirk and put the plates down on the coffee table. Then she danced over to us.

"What did you bring me?" She asked excitedly, rubbing her hands together. She took the bag from Jasper and pulled the wine out. She paid no attention to the wine, shoving it straight into Jasper's hands. She had her sights set on the box below, the one she knew would contain something sweet and homemade. She took the box out and lifted the lid, then proceeded to moan loudly. "Pumpkin gingerbread. My favorite." She looked at Jasper. "If you ever need to gain 50lbs in one week, Bella is your girl. Seriously. Anyone who can stop at just one slice has a lot more willpower than I ever will." Then she took notice of the wine bottle. "And you brought the Pinot? You're an angel."

I circled my head with my finger in the shape of a halo and laughed at her.

"We're obviously going very fancy tonight, and eating on the floor." Alice said, gesturing grandly to the coffee table.

There were three plates set out with ravioli, chicken parmesan, and garlic bread. I could tell right away that she'd ordered from our favorite restaurant in Bensonhurst.

"Great. I'm starving." I breathed.

We sat down around the table and dug into dinner. The night went by smoothly and effortlessly. We ate and talked and laughed for hours. Thanks to the wine I brought, and the bottle we found stashed the back of one of the cabinets, the three of us were appropriately buzzing. One night of being around Jasper, and he was already one of my favorite people. He was so calm and assertive, and he had the funniest, most wholesome sense of humor. He was such a positive person, just like Alice.

He and Alice were so good together, too. Spending the whole night with them, and watching the way they were together, it made me even more satisfied with Alice's happiness. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before; the way he studied her face so intently every time she spoke, like what she had to say, whatever she had to say, was the most vital thing in the world. Which was really surprising, considering how MUCH Alice talked.

And Alice… she stared at him with googoo eyes. Every time they looked at each other, her whole face lit up. Whenever he got up to leave the room, he kissed her forehead or squeezed her hand. She swooned every time he called her darlin'. It was weird that I'd never noticed Jasper's Southern drawl before tonight, but I figured it was probably because any other time I'd been around him, I was too distracted with Edward to notice.

When we were thoroughly fatted and liquored up, Alice then decided it was time for me to open my present.

"Please refrain from the dry humping until you get back to your own house." She warned as she handed me the flat rectangle.

I took it and ripped off the red wrapping paper with little Rudolph's on it.

I literally squealed and almost passed out.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

"I take it you like it?" Alice asked.

I looked at her with wide eyes. "The Beatles Rockband. The Beatles fucking Rockband. The FUCKING Beatles Rockband!" I hugged the case to my chest jumping up and down.

"I'll take your freaking out as a 'yes." She laughed. "Yeah, I kind of figured you would."

"I don't… I can't… like… GAH!" I ran over to her, catching her up in a huge hug. Words couldn't quite describe how excited I was.

She laughed breathlessly. "Bella… you're crushing my lungs."

I released her and returned to hugging my new Holy Grail.

"I guess you weren't kiddin' when you said she loves The Beatles." Jasper said to Alice.

"She's obsessed. It's disturbing sometimes, but you learn to love it."

Eventually my excitement died down –(okay, it didn't actually _die down_. I tried really hard to contain it.) –and we sat down to drink more wine and watch some of the Christmas specials that were playing on cable. Rudolph and Frosty's Christmas in July was my favorite, and it just so happened to be on. _This Christmas isn't starting off so bad._

After a few hours, and more than a few glasses of wine, we were all sitting quietly just staring at the TV. I was in the armchair, and Alice and Jasper were lounging on the couch. He had his arms around her, and Alice was leaning against his chest. They looked so at ease with each other, so normal and happy.

It was at the point where Frosty was making a deal with Winterbolt to give Rudolph back his shiny nose, when I suddenly started feeling really uncomfortable sitting there, like I was intruding. A strange pain rose in my chest, like tiny prickles over my heart, poking and prodding.

I stood up quickly, and felt the effects of the wine heat my body. I stumbled a little bit, and Alice lifted her head to look at me.

"I'm going to get going." I said.

She pouted and sat up. "Already?"

"It's getting late, I'm drunk, and I don't want to trek through the snow in the dark."

She sighed. "All right." She stood up and walked over to me. "I'll walk you out."

I called out a goodbye to Jasper, and he yelled goodnight back to me. Alice walked me to the door and leaned in the doorway while I put my boots back on.

"This was fun." I said.

"I'm happy we got to hang out. Just the three of us."

"Yeah. Jasper's great. You guys are perfect together."

"I hope so. He's so wonderful to me."

"I've never seen you so… just blissed out."

"I know. I'm really, really happy. I mean, I haven't honestly been able to say that in a long time. But I am, and it feels _so_ good." She smiled.

I smiled up at her, then looked back down at my boots, concentrating on tying the laces.

"Hey, are you all right?" She asked after a moment.

"I'm fine. Why?"

She shrugged. "Just making sure."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop worrying, and go spend time with your man." I straightened up and pulled her into a hug.

"I'll call you tomorrow to say Merry Christmas." She said.

"Don't be surprised if I don't answer. I might be jamming out hard, Beatles style."

She smirked. "Well, you'll have to take breaks for food and water. I'll try to catch you in between."

"We'll see how good that works." I laughed, and made my way toward the stairs. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Jingle Bells."

I turned around to glare at her, but she'd already shut the door.

The subway was nearly empty, and I spent the whole ride hunched over with my head in my hands, trying to make sense of myself. The ride passed in the blink of an eye, and I was surprised when the doors chimed and the automated voice told me we were at my stop.

Instead of going home, I turned the other way and walked down the street to the park. The streetlight on the north side near the basketball court was broken, and the asphalt was coated in a thick blanket of snow and ice. It was empty and dark and cold; desolate, and I basked in that.

I walked over to the playground on the east side and pushed the creaky chain link gate out of my way. The swing set was half broken; one of the baby swings broken off of one of its chains, and it hung to the ground miserably. One of the regular swings had its chains wound up around the metal support beam way over my head. I shook the snow off of the rubber seat of the useable swing and sat down, making sure that my coat covered my ass. It was up high enough that I could only reach the ground with the toe of my shoes. I sat there and swung back and forth lazily, using my toe to push me.

What the hell was that all about back there? Why did I get third-wheel syndrome all of a sudden, when I was fine the rest of the night? I turned that over and over in my head as the park spun around me. I figured I should stop swinging myself, or I was going to end up with puke on my shoes.

I dragged my foot and pulled the swing to a jolting stop. I gripped the chains and sat up straight, staring down at the ground in front of me. I shocked myself when I realized that I was _jealous_ of Alice and Jasper.

_How the hell does it make any sense for me to be jealous?_

Because I wasn't jealous of _them_, that's how. When I looked at them, it made me think about how Edward and I could be. If things were different… if we were different. If I were more like Alice; optimistic, at peace, and thriving. If the two of us weren't so fucked up. I was jealous of what they had, something I never even thought about having until now.

_Or, _maybe_ it's just the wine going to your head._

My head was spinning, and I leaned forward to cradle it in my hands. I needed to stop trying to think when I was drunk five ways to Sunday. I dragged myself up off of the swing and let my sluggish feet carry me back home.

*

_I was running as fast as I could in the freezing cold darkness. No matter how hard I pushed my legs, I felt as if I couldn't go fast enough, like instead of speeding up, I was slowing down with the force. I was frenzied, gasping for air, but my lungs weren't gaining purchase on the oxygen. The wind slapped at my face, lashing against my skin like stinging strikes from a whip._

_I was desperate to follow the darkness, frantic to get deeper in and let it consume me, engulf me until there was nothing left, but I didn't know why. I looked over my shoulder, and saw what I was running from. The light; the light was chasing me. Only, it wasn't just a light. It was a _person_. A bright white form of a person, running after me, calling to me, but I couldn't make out its words._

_I whipped my head back around, and the darkness had changed. It was no longer blank; it was teeming and shifting. Menacingly, it reached out to swallow me whole._

_It was then that I realized I should turn around and run the other way. I should get out of the darkness and let the light save me. I stopped and turned around, bracing myself to run toward my light, but it wasn't there anymore; I'd taken too long, and the light was gone._

_Suddenly, I was in my bedroom. I was lying on my bed, and my arms were above my head. A strong hand gripped my wrists, holding them firmly against the pillow. A forearm was tight against my neck, pressing into my throat, making it hard to breath. It was so dark, and I couldn't see more than a few inches in front of my face. It was enough to see the outline of the figure above me._

"_Are you going to be a good girl, Bella?"_

_I wanted to scream, but my throat was obstructed._

"_You keep quiet, and I won't have to hurt you. You hear me? Keep your fucking mouth shut!"_

"_No!" I croaked._

_He pushed down harder on my throat, and cut off my breathing all together. I started to gag as I tried desperately to get air into my lungs, but there was not path for it to enter. His hand released my wrists, and then it was clamped, hard, over my mouth. I was starting to feel lightheaded, and black dots came across my vision._

_And then his arm let up, and air whooshed into my lungs. I choked and sputtered, too relieved at the influx of air to care what had caused him to let me go. Because he wasn't gone; he was still there, still above me, still in contact with my body. I just didn't seem to be his main focus anymore. I looked anxiously around the room, but there was nothing there but us. His face was turned toward the window, and I could see a ray of light shining from between the black curtains. He turned his head back to face me with a grimace on that spiteful face. I sat up and grabbed his head, jamming my thumbs into his eyes._

"_No MORE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs._

I woke up with a start, and shot up in my bed, gasping for air. I clutched at my throat, my arms, my body, kicking my legs until I got a hold of myself.

_It was just a dream. It's okay. It wasn't real. Just a dream._

I raked my hand through my hair. It was matted together from sweat, the same sweat that coated my neck and face. I took a few deep, calming breaths, and closed my eyes.

_Breathe, Bella. Breathe._

I jumped when my phone started ringing from my nightstand at top volume.

_Feliz Navidad_

_Feliz Navidad_

_Feliz Navidad_

_Prospero Ano-_

"Hello?" I said, answering the phone to a number I didn't recognize.

"Hi Bella!" Alice screamed in my ear.

"Hi. Hey, when did you get into my ring tones?" I asked.

"If you don't want a mobile makeover, don't leave your purse unattended near me." She said.

I just shook my head. I leaned my head against my knees and closed my eyes. "Whose phone are you on?"

"Jasper's. I forgot to plug in my charger last night, and mine died on the way up here." She sounded very upset about it.

"Well, maybe if you didn't talk so much, that wouldn't happen." I griped, then stifled a yawn.

"Someone is grumpy today."

"Well, _someone_ just woke up to a pixie who is way too chipper for how early it is."

"Uh, actually, it's noon."

"What?" I lifted my head and looked at my alarm clock. It was actually ten past. "Damn. I didn't even realize I slept in that long." I rubbed at my eyes with the heel of my hand.

She mumbled something that I didn't quite catch, but it sounded like "Something, something, taco meat."

"What?"

"Nothing. I was talking to Jasper."

I heard someone talking in the background, and then my head snapped up at the sound of a deep, low laugh. My heartbeat picked up in response, and I was a little more alert now.

"Oh. Are you _at_ Jasper's?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why, do you want to talk to Edward?" She teased.

"No." I deadpanned.

"Sureeee." She sang. "Anyways, I'm just calling to say Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, you too. Tell everyone I say Merry Christmas."

"I will. Any special shout outs?" I could just picture her wiggling her eyebrows.

"Goodbye, Alice."

She sighed. "You're no fun."

"Yeah, well, it's a curse. Goodbye, Alice."

"Goodbye, Grinch."

"Hi-lar-i-ous." I griped.

"I know. Give Paul kisses for me."

"Sure thing."

I snapped the phone shut and tossed it back onto my nightstand. I slept until fucking noon, and I wasn't even working last night. What the fuck?

I looked down at the bed. My comforter was curled up in a ball by my feet and the sheets were wrapped around my lower half. I untangled my legs from the sheets and swung them over the side of the bed. When I stood up, my legs felt wooden. I took a step and they trembled weakly, and I had to catch myself on the footboard.

_That's what you get for drinking half a pint of whiskey to the face when you got home last night._

"Yeah, yeah." I mumbled to myself.

Paul was at my feet before I could make it half way to the bathroom. I detoured to the kitchen to pour him his late breakfast and put on a pot of coffee. I swear I saw him shake his head at me when I stumbled as I walked away from the counter.

When I got into the bathroom and took a look in the mirror, I groaned. There were hectic red creases on the left side of my face from being pressed into the pillow while I slept. I had bags under my eyes from oversleeping, and my hair… my hair was just a fucking disaster. The collar of my t-shirt was soaked through with sweat, and I had to peel it away from my chest. I looked greasy and nasty, and I didn't smell too good either. I needed a shower. Badly.

After a good scrub down under the hot water, turned up as high as I could tolerate, and brushing my teeth twice to get that bad hangover taste out of my mouth, I was a feeling a little more like myself. I got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, poured myself a cup of coffee, and went out on the fire escape to grab a smoke.

It was still cold enough out that when I exhaled smoke, I couldn't tell where it ended and the clouds of my breath began. And there were still some light snow flurries twisting and turning in the wind, but it wasn't nearly as freezing cold as it had been yesterday.

I huffed into my hands and rubbed them together to warm them up. The wind blew, and sent a racking chill through my body that had nothing to do with the actual weather itself. I was hit with a flash of last night's nightmare, the frigid gust of air reminding me of the freezing cold wind whipping my face as I ran through the darkness. I snubbed my cigarette out in a small pile of snow on one of the steps and practically dove back through the window.

I needed something to do to keep my mind away from the strength of my latest nightmare. I scanned my apartment purposefully, and smiled when I looked at the sheets on my bed, the fabric darkened by my sweat. I stripped the bed and threw the sheets, detergent, and fabric softener into my laundry sack, grabbed a handful of quarters from the jar on my dresser, and made a beeline for the door.

When I got back upstairs, I remade my bed meticulously, smoothing out every wrinkle and crease until it was perfect. Something else had occurred to me while my sheets turned in the wash, and now I was trying to come up with every and any reason to stall. It was Christmas. And I would have to make that dreaded phone call.

There had been so much stress and drama in my life lately that I really didn't want to have to deal with talking to my mother. She had been the furthest worry from my mind for a while now, and I didn't want to disrupt that balance.

Unfortunately for me, time off from work meant that pretty much everything in my apartment was in spotless order. The furniture was dusted, the countertops clean, the dishwasher was empty, and the rugs were vacuumed. When I finally gave up on searching for any excuse to avoid it, and I couldn't put it off any longer, I sat down on my kitchen chair and pulled the phone into my hands. I twirled my pinky finger around the antenna slowly, biding a few more seconds.

Putting on a brave face, I punched in the number and hit the talk button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mother." I said.

"Bella?"

"Do you have any other kids I don't know about?" I said with a little too much attitude. I covered the receiver with my hand and took a deep breath.

"No. You just sounded different for a second, that's all. But that bitchy attitude lets me know that it's you."

"I learned from the best." I shot back.

"Not today, Bella. It's Christmas, for Christ's sake."

"I'm sorry if my attitude is ruining your joyful holiday." I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

She sighed. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Then let's not fight. I just called to say Merry Christmas, so… Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." She scoffed. "I'll talk to you again... when? Easter Sunday? Shit."

Despite myself, her tone of voice made me concerned. "What's going on, mom?" I asked.

"Nothing. I'm just sick of this shit. I'm sick of my own daughter hating me."

"It's a little late to do anything about that now, don't you think?"

"I know. I know I made a lot of mistakes with you, Bella, and I can't take any of that back. I was a terrible mother –_am_ a terrible mother."

I snorted. "Right. Now that you got that out of the way, how much money do you want from me now?"

"Why do you always think it's about money?"

"Gee, I don't know, Renee. Maybe because it always _is_. Every time I talk to you, you ask me for a hand out. You expect me to think this time is any different? Or am I supposed to believe that you're having a spontaneous attack of conscience?"

"I deserve that." She sighed.

"And if it isn't about money, if you actually meant anything you just said, why does it matter to you now? It never has before."

"It's always mattered. I know I dug my own grave when it comes to you." Her voice shook, like she was trying not to cry, and my eyebrows creased. "I just… I want you to know that I love you, Bella."

My eyebrows shot up. That was a far cry from the things she usually said to me. I distinctly remember her telling me, on many occasions, how much she wished I were never born; that she wished she'd been smart enough to have an abortion while she still could. Now, all of a sudden, after twenty-one years of neglect and spite, she was, what? Trying to make amends to me? I could think of only one way that could be true.

I swallowed hard. "Mom, are you… are you getting help?"

"Help for what?" She asked obliviously.

I shook my head. Nothing had changed. I was a fool to even entertain the idea for a second. She was way too far gone in her denial to ever accept help. She had Phil and drugs and alcohol, and that was a complete life as far as she was concerned. That's why I wouldn't let myself feel sympathy for her, or feel touched by her words. My blood was just ice in my veins when it came to my mother.

"Never mind. I have some stuff I need to do, so I'll just talk to you later, mom."

I heard her sigh. "Okay. Bye, Bella."

I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hands for a long time. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was fucked up on something. Maybe she was into something new now, something that made her feel guilty when she thought about me. The hell if I cared. I couldn't care anymore. I was incapable of feeling anything but disdain for that woman, as cold as that may sound. She said it right; she dug her own grave when it came to us.

I put the phone back on the base and walked into the living room to stand by the window. The snow had picked up a little since earlier, but it still looked pretty tame out. So I pulled on my coat, my gloves and scarf, stuffed my feet into my boots, and geared up to go for a walk in the snow. A perfect way to clear my head.

The elevator chimed while I was locking my door, and I turned in time to see Edward stepping off with a ridiculous fluffy red and white Santa hat on his head. His cheeks and nose were rosy red from being outside, the shoulders of his coat were dusted with white flakes, and he looked so adorable.

"Hey." I said with a smile.

"Hey." He breathed.

"Nice hat." I pointed to his head.

He reached up and pulled it off, wadding it up in his good hand. "I forgot I had that on."

"Oh, don't be coy. You know, you're a little thin to pass as the traditional Santa, but hey, who am I to judge?" I teased.

He smirked and threw the hat at me. I awkwardly and ungracefully caught it by bringing up my knee and wedging it between my elbow and my thigh. I pulled it on over my head and he laughed at me.

"It looks better on you." He ran his hand through his hair. "My mother's really big on Christmas. She makes us all wear those."

"I'm sure Alice was thrilled about that."

"Oh man. The look on her face was priceless." He laughed.

I pictured Alice's grimace when she was told she had to put a hat on over her hair, which she undoubtedly had hair sprayed to spiky perfection ahead of time.

"I would've paid big money to see that." I pulled the hat off my head and tossed it to him. He caught it deftly, despite my terrible aim. I smoothed back my hair. "So, Merry Christmas."

He stretched his arms out at his sides and quirked an eyebrow, inviting me in for a hug. I was never really that much of an affectionate person, but just like with Alice, it didn't feel forced with him. I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around his waist. He smelled like winter and cold, and that distinct cinnamony scent that could only be described as Edward.

He hugged my shoulders tightly. "Merry Christmas, Bell."

My heart gave a strange sort of squeeze as he used my nickname for the first time. _Bell_. It sounded like music when it fell from his lips, and I vowed to memorize the sound.

"Or should I say, Jingle Bells." He quipped, sounding amused with himself.

I stepped back from his embrace, feeling the loss immediately. "Calling me that will earn you a death sentence, buddy." He just made a face at me, and I shook my head back at him. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I… live here." He said slowly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I sighed. "You know what I mean, asshat. Why are you back so early?"

His eyebrows drew together and rose, but he just shrugged. I narrowed my eyes at him, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Uh… I was just going to take a walk."

"It's snowing." He said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know." I answered simply, and smiled. "Do you want to come?"

"Sure."

When we got outside, I stopped to light a cigarette, and offered one to Edward. He shook his head. He had already pulled his hood up, and his hands were shoved deep in his jacket pockets. He looked like he was freezing.

"If it's too cold for you, you don't have to come." I laughed.

"No, I'm okay." He said.

I sighed and rolled my eyes at him. Apparently, he was hell bent on being a martyr. I had taken off one of my gloves to work the lighter, and I handed it to him. He looked down at it, confused. I shoved it towards him.

"Take it. It's going to be a little small, but it'll work."

"Then your hand is going to be cold."

"I can deal with one cold hand. Come on, we can pay a one-gloved tribute to Michael Jackson."

He pulled his hand out of his pocket and took it from me. "I can't turn down an opportunity to honor the King of Pop."

He put the glove on his hand, and it barely covered the heel of his palm, but I was glad at least the one good hand he had left wouldn't freeze. I'd already caused him to break his left one, so the least I could do was prevent him from losing his other hand from frostbite. I almost laughed out loud at my warped logic.

We walked leisurely down the street in silence, while I stared around me at the snow. It was coming down lightly at an angle, beginning to cover up the paths that had been shoveled out on the sidewalk.

"So, why are we walking in the snow?" Edward asked after a few minutes.

"You didn't have to come."

"I know. I wanted to. But, why?"

"What? You don't like the snow?" I jibbed.

He shrugged. "I don't have any problems with it. But it's fucking freezing out."

I glanced over at him, and couldn't hold back a laugh. His face was beat red, and his teeth were chattering.

"I'm the one who grew up with 70 degree winters, and you're over there freezing your testicles off."

He tried to glare at me, but ultimately cracked a smile. "Why do you think that is?" He asked.

"The cold doesn't really bother me anymore." I shrugged. "Which is good, because I love the snow. I just love walking in it, having it around me, being apart of it." I looked over at him. "I used to hate it when I first moved here. It never snowed in Phoenix. It barely even rains there. I only saw snow maybe twice growing up, when I was in Forks. And I always refused to leave the house when it did." I looked ahead of me. "Once I moved here and was around it enough, it grew on me."

It was quiet for a second.

"It wakes me up at night, you know? The sound."

"The sound of what?"

"The snow."

"The snow doesn't make noise." He looked at me like I was crazy.

I nodded. "It doesn't, but it does. It's the silence that wakes me up." I ran my gloved hand through my hair. "It's hard to explain. It's just… the quiet is so loud. It's consuming. It's the kind of silence that is so still, it drowns out everything else. It takes away your thoughts, and just leaves you with the calm. It's peaceful."

"I never really thought about it like that." He said pensively.

I was grateful for the bitter cold biting at my cheeks and nose then, because it disguised the blush that heated my cheeks. The contrast of the cold and the warmth made my face tingle numbly.

"I don't mean to be so thoughtful about it." I said.

"No, no. It actually makes sense."

I smiled. "Yeah. I just think it's so beautiful." I said, staring up at the sky. "I didn't have this in Phoenix." _I didn't have a lot in Phoenix_.

After my impromptu philosophical lecture on precipitation, I decided to take mercy on Edward and cut the walk short to go back home. We made the loop around at the end of the block and headed back to our building. We smoked a cigarette before we went back inside, and I giggled when Edward moaned as he stepped into the warm elevator.

"Do you want to come over for hot chocolate?" I blurted out when the elevator stopped. "Seeing as I subjected you to the cold, I figure I at least owe you that much." I explained.

"Yeah, you do."

We went into my apartment, and I turned the kettle on as soon as we got in the door. I took off my coat, and took Edward's from him, and I hung them up in the hall closet. I ripped off my boots and my one glove and pulled on my favorite pair of slippers. They were big and bulky, and looked like oversized puffy sneakers.

Edward sat in a chair at the kitchen island while I bustled around the kitchen making our drinks. He must've wandered out into the living room while my back was turned, because as I poured hot water into our mugs, I heard the sound of my record player starting up, and then 'Hey Jude' started playing. I hummed along with it as I poured dairy into our cups, soymilk for me, 2% for him, and loaded them up with jumbo campfire marshmallows.

I walked into the room holding our mugs, and he was stretched out on my couch with his shoes off and his eyes closed. I bumped his feet with my hip and he opened one eye to look at me. With a huff, he sat up.

"Don't worry, Edward, make yourself right at home."

He smirked at me. "Pay up." He said as I handed him the mug. "Damn, did you give me any hot chocolate with these marshmallows?" He asked with wide eyes.

I laughed. "The marshmallows are the best part." I inclined my head toward the record player. "Nice pick, by the way."

"I thought that thing was just for show. Don't people usually just collect records?"

I grimaced. "Some people do that. Not me. I don't see the point of owning something so amazing and iconic if you can't enjoy it the way it's meant to be enjoyed. Records are meant to be listened to, not to just sit on a shelf collecting dust or in a case to be stared at. It's music, not eye candy. Personally, I think it's an insult to the artist to just have them for the sake of having them. If I didn't want to hear them, I wouldn't see any reason to keep them."

He nodded, looking impressed by my little rant. "That's a valid point."

"I know." I said smugly, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. My views on music were something I was very passionate about.

He laughed at the self-satisfied look on my face, but didn't make a comment. "That ones new, right?" He said, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb. "I didn't see it here before."

I nodded. "I just got it."

"What, did Santa leave it for you under the-" He whipped his head back and forth, looking around. Then he turned back to me with his brows creased in confusion. "You don't have a tree?"

"Nope." I answered.

"Why not?"

"I don't really like to make a spectacle out of the holidays." I said, bowing my head a little.

"Right." He said softly, understanding the words I didn't say.

"You have one?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just a small one. You know, I like to keep the Christmas spirit alive." He said with sarcastic passion, pumping his fist into the air.

"You are such a dork." I laughed, shaking my head. "So how was Christmas with the family?" I asked.

"Good. Except for Rosalie giving me the stink eye the whole time."

I blanched. "Why would she do that?"

I knew very well why she would do that. She probably found out that Edward and I were mending fences. But how could she know already? She hadn't seen my around him or heard me talking to him or anything. Unless Edward told her…

"I don't know. She's always pissed at someone. I guess it's just my turn this week."

"Oh." I said bleakly, not believing him for a second. I changed the subject. "Is that why you came home?"

"No." He said, looking away from me.

"Then why did you? I thought you were staying with your parents until tomorrow."

"Change of plans."

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing happened." He shrugged. "I just wanted to be here."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Alone? On Christmas?"

"I'm not alone, dweeb."

I was sidetracked for a second. "D-did you just call me a dweeb? Seriously? Are we in third grade again? If you start calling me doodoo head, I'm kicking your ass out."

He laughed. "I'll consider myself warned."

I just shook my head, and got back to the point. "Why'd you come home, Edward? Really?" I pressed.

He sighed and leaned back against the couch cushion. "I think you know why." He said, looking at me pointedly, and shrugged. "No one should be alone on Christmas."

"Edward…" I sighed exasperatedly, finally grasping his reasoning.

"Don't start, Bella."

"You already started. Damn it, I'm a big girl. You don't have to worry about me all the fucking time."

"I know I don't _have_ to. But I can't help that I just _do_."

"So you just leave your family on Christmas to spend the day with my depressing ass? That's my idea of a good time." I griped.

"Mine too. I'm hoping your misery will rub off on me."

"Seriously, Edward. This is ridiculous. You should be with your family, not me."

"Is it really so unthinkable that maybe I _want_ to spend time with you on Christmas? I was with my family all night and all morning. They're fine without me."

"Yeah, but now I feel like I'm taking you away from them. And I didn't even ask you to leave! Way to make me feel guilty."

He scoffed. "Yeah, that was definitely my intention." He ran his hand through his hair and sat up straight. "God, Bella, you can be so stupid sometimes."

"Thanks. I appreciate your confidence in my intelligence."

"I don't think _you_ are stupid. Just the way you think sometimes is."

I laughed humorlessly. "Wow, that makes me feel so fucking much better."

He looked at me angrily for a second, then started laughing and dropped his head into his hands.

"What's the punch line?" I asked, peeved.

He raised his head. "This is all we fucking do." He said, motioning between us. "Fight. Mostly about stupid shit. Fuck, Bella. I'm here, right? Arguing isn't going to change that. And it's Christmas, for fuck's sake. Can't we just be merry?"

"No, we cannot be _merry_, because you are an extremely frustrating fuck of a person."

"_I'm_ frustrating? Dude, if _I'm_ frustrating, then… I don't even know what you are. They need to make up a new fucking word for it."

"Okay, can you _not_ call me dude? Ever again. Last time I checked, I am the proud owner of a vagina. But seeing as that _was_ this morning, I suppose I could've miraculously sprouted a penis by now."

"That's a nice visual." He mumbled.

"Are we going to stop with the middle school burns and get back to the issue at hand?"

"Sure, if you stop with the middle school temper tantrums."

I stared at him blankly for a long moment. "I do NOT throw tantrums."

He fake coughed and said, "Bitch fit."

I swatted him in the arm, and he grabbed at the spot with an exaggerated look of pain on his face. "Why do you always have to get violent? One more time, and I'm pressing charges."

I tried to glare at him, but wound up just bursting into a fit of the giggles. I couldn't help it. I wanted so badly to be aggravated at him, to make him understand that what we had didn't necessitate him leaving his family's holiday party to come keep me company. I wanted to be angry, but I couldn't. I was actually a little bit relieved that I was on his mind, even though I knew it was wrong to think that way. And I was surprised. Edward was usually the one who flew off the handle a bit, and the fact that he had turned the whole argument around into a joke made me feel… liberated.

He stood up. "If you're going to keep it up, then I'll just leave." He said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Shut up." I said, rolling my eyes.

"No. If you want me to leave, I'll leave. Be alone on Christmas. See if I care." He said, sounding very much like a stubborn five-year old.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to the couch with a laugh. "No, no, stay. You're right. Jingle bells, Batman smells, and all that happy shit, right?" I laughed. "See? I'm being merry."

"Okay. Your holiday cheer convinced me." He said, plopping down beside me. "I'll stay."

"Of course you will. You wouldn't leave. Not without your present, anyway."

"Present?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

I got shy and bashful at my verbal diarrhea, and my cheeks flamed with color. "Yeah. I got you something."

He looked at my confusedly as I stood up from the couch. I walked over to the side of the TV stand and picked up the big rectangle. I brought it over to the couch and laid it gingerly on the coffee table in front of him. I sat back down beside him on the very edge of the couch, to wound up and anxious to relax into the seat.

"I wasn't planning on getting you anything, but I don't know." I shrugged when he looked at me. "I just saw this and it reminded me of you. I had to get it."

He leaned forward and slid the frame onto his lap. He ripped off the snowflake wrapping paper and stared at the picture beneath thoughtfully for a minute. The quiet made me nervous, and I started worrying my lip as he studied it in silence. After a few moments that felt like way longer than it actually was, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"It's okay if you hate it." I uttered quietly.

He didn't say anything, and the gnawing on my lip was joined by the wringing of my hands together. He looked the painting over intently, and instead of looking at it, I watched his eyes moved. I didn't have to look at the painting; I already had it memorized. The splay of chaotic colors covering the canvas, the blues and yellows, oranges and reds, greens and purples… streaks of every color under the sun. And set back into the bottom left corner of the portrait was the blacked out silhouette of one single man. He was sitting at a grand piano with his head bent over the keys, lost in the music.

"This reminded you of me, huh?" He asked and smiled, without taking his eyes from the canvas.

"Yeah. I mean, it's just… when I think about you playing the piano, this is how I picture you. Like all the crazy chaos fades to black, and it's just you and the music." I shrugged. "I don't know. It was probably a dumb idea, but when I saw it, I just…" I trailed off.

He shook his head. "No. It's not dumb. You're right. That's exactly how it is for me." He ran his fingers over the image. "I sit down at that bench, and everything makes sense to me. It helps me put everything in order."

I smiled. "I guess I'm more intuitive than I thought."

He finally looked over at me, and there was a look in his eyes that I'd never seen before. "Thank you, Bella. Really. This is… the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever given me. It means a lot."

"You're welcome." I said fervently. I wasn't expecting the gift to touch him as deeply as it did, but I found that instead of making me feel uncomfortable, it made me happy.

He stood up. "I have something for you, too."

Before I could protest, he was taking off for the door with my gift to him in his hands. This was the part that was going to make me very uncomfortable. Why the fuck did he have to go and get me a Christmas present? First, he leaves his family so that I didn't have to spend the day alone, or as the crazy cat lady like every other time. And now, he actually _got me something_. It was just proving more and more how erroneously amazing he was to me.

He came back in a few minutes later balancing a big box in his hand, with a two-foot tall tree on top. I could tell by looking at it that it was a garment box. I swallowed back the bile that rose in my throat, and tried to slap on a smile as he set the box on the table in front of me.

"I brought a little Christmas spirit with me." He said, picking up the little tree and putting it down next to the daunting box.

"Bella? Bella, are you going to open it?" It took Edward's worried voice to make me realize that I had been staring blankly at the box for much longer than just a few seconds. My palms were starting to sweat.

I blinked rapidly a few times and looked up at him. He was sitting down beside me and staring at me with alarm. I tried to smile reassuringly, but I'm pretty sure it was just a grimace. The crease between his brows deepened.

"Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick or something."

"No, no, I'm fine. Um…" I ran my hand through my hair and centered myself in front of the box. "You really didn't have to get me anything, Edward." I said weakly.

"I wanted to." He said simply.

I nodded my head and bit down on my lip. The box was big and silver, with a thick red ribbon tied around it and fashioned into a bow on the top. I tentatively pulled it onto my lap, as Edward had done with his own present minutes ago. It may have just been my imagination, but it seemed to weight a ton as my knees grew week under its mass. I took the most furtive deep breath that I could muster, and reached out a shaky hand to untie the bow.

The ribbons fell away and I hooked my fingers underneath the top of the lid on both sides. I pulled the top off and laid it aside carefully. I peeled back the delicate sheets of red and white tissue paper, and when it was finally all out of the way, my breath hitched in my throat.

There, sitting amongst the wispy sheets, was a carefully folded mound of beautiful blue silk. I turned my head to Edward, and he was watching me with the most beautiful crooked smile on his face. I looked back down at my gift, and carefully took the edges of the fabric in my hands. I lifted it up in front of my face, and was stunned into silence.

It was one of the most gorgeous deep blue dresses I had ever laid eyes on. The bodice was ruched silk, and had a slant at the top down across one cup. The left cup was black and embellished with shiny rhinestones. It was tight down to the hips, where the skirt flared out in two layers of ruffles. The bottom of the dress was banded, and looked like it would come to about a quarter of a way down the thigh. It was slim and chic and edgy. If I had been in a store and seen this dress, I would've _had_ to have it, no matter how much the cost. It was so beautiful, and just my style.

I looked at Edward with wide eyes.

"Edward, it's gorgeous."

"So, you like it?"

"Like it? It's…" I laughed one breathless laugh, "how could I not? It's absolutely beautiful." I pursed my lips. "And way, way, way too much." I looked over him again. "I can't accept this."

"Of course you can."

I shook my head. "No. I can't."

"Why not?" He asked, sounding amused.

"How much did this cost you?" I asked, deflecting.

"Isn't that kind of a rude thing to ask?"

"Since when do I care about being rude?" I was satisfied that I had recovered my good humor.

"Since you baked me cookies to apologize for doing just that."

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

He shrugged. "First impressions…"

I turned the dress over and found the tag. Hanging from where the original tag had been, there was a little white card that read 'Price: Don't Fucking Worry About It' in handwriting I knew well.

"Alice." I spit her name like a profanity. Edward laughed. "She went with you?" He nodded. "Oh, so Alice picked it out, did she?"

"No. Actually, I picked it out, thank you very much. She just got final say. You know, the power of veto."

"Yeah, that's definitely Alice." I shook my head. "You really need to stop conspiring against me with my best friend."

"Buying you a present is conspiring against you?"

I nodded, and laid the dress back into the box. "I really appreciate this, but I really can't keep it."

"If you don't like it, it's fine. Just tell me."

"That's not it at all. If I didn't like it, I'd tell you I don't like the fucking thing. No. I love it. It's beautiful and perfect… but you shouldn't have gotten it for me."

"Let me get this straight; it's okay for you to get me something, but I can't buy anything for you?"

"I didn't plan on getting you something, it was spur-of-the-moment. You obviously put a lot of thought into this."

"I don't get it."

"I know. You don't have to, okay? I just… I'm not going to take this."

"Are you going to start round two over this, now?" He asked hotly.

"If you put up a fight, I'll have to."

He sighed. "I should've just got you a fucking referee."

"I'm not _trying_ to start an argument. I'm just telling you that I can't accept it."

"And I'm asking you why." He said through his teeth.

I huffed. "We agreed we were going to stay friends."

"We are."

"This isn't exactly a 'friend' thing to give to a girl." I said, gesturing toward the dress.

"Well, we don't exactly have a normal friendship, Bella."

I opened my mouth to say something, but my mind was blank. I couldn't argue with him there. There was nothing conventional, or purely 'friendly', about the way Edward and I were. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, and Edward saw this as a sign of defeat.

"I thought you could wear it to Alice's on New Year's. I was hoping maybe we could go together."

"Together?" I asked skeptically.

"We don't have to _go together_ go together. Just… show up together." He held up his hands. "Just as friends. Like, a friend-date. We can be friend-dates, right?"

I smirked. "I don't know…"

"Either way, you're wearing the dress." He said adamantly.

"Oh, am I?" I challenged.

"Yup. I can't return it. I lost the receipt." He said in a tone that I didn't believe for a second. "So, someone's going to have to wear it, or else my hard earned cash will be going to waste. And it'll have to be you, because I look lousy in strapless."

"I don't fully believe you." I said, tapping my chin as I appraised him. "I think those broad shoulders of yours would fill it out quite nicely."

"Well, those great boobs of yours will fill it out a lot better."

I gaped at him, and he winked slyly back at me. "Just stop being so fucking difficult, and wear the damn dress." He stood up and made for the hallway. "I'll see you later." He shouted back to me, and then I heard the door open and close as he left.

I sat on the couch, staring toward the hallway with my mouth gaping open. Then, I buried my face in my hands and started laughing. He was so fucking aggravating and annoying sometimes, and it made me feel so amazing just to have the privilege to be near his exasperating ass.

I lifted my head and stared at the new addition to my wardrobe, my new present.

It was a beautiful dress. And I could tell by the quality of it that he had to have dropped some major money on it. Wouldn't it be an insult if I didn't wear it to the party with him? _With him._

I sighed and pulled the dress out of the box, taking it with me to the bathroom. I closed the door and stood in front of the full-length mirror, holding the dress up to my body. I always knew I looked best in blue, and the deep color of the dress complimented my skin tone to a T. And since Edward would be forcing me to wear what he wanted me to, I could tell him to wear something I wanted. That meant I could get him into a green dress shirt. God did he look down right fucking delicious in green.

That made up my mind. I would wear the stunning dress, and go to my best friend's party with the sexiest man I ever met on my arm. I smiled at myself in the mirror.

As Christmases went, I had to admit, this was one of my best.

*****

**Link to Bella's dress from Edward is in my profile.**

**As you can see, Bella is having a really hard time with her internal battle. A lot of the times, battles of conscience are between want and need, but it's different for her. The only thing Bella actively wants is for her feelings for Edward to dissipate. Her battle is between need and need. She needs to be around him, and she needs him to be okay, which in her mind, means being away from her. So yeah, she's all messed up.**

**Another thing is, since she doesn't have her numbness anymore, a lot of things she had been suppressing are starting to nag at her subconscious, and will begin to boil up to the surface very soon.**

**The next post will be a lot of drama, and I'm going to try to have it up at some point next week. Thanks for hanging in here with me guys! You've all been amazing.**

**Leave me lots of love until the next! Bye lovelies!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi my lovelies! Jeez, it's been a while. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. I had to deal with a lot of things going on in RL, but everything's pretty calm right now, and I'm glad to be back! I'm so grateful for those of you who chose to stick around and wait it out. It really means a lot to me. I won't bore you with the details of my fucked up RL, but I WILL give you the chapter you've been waiting for. :) I hope you'll like it, and forgive my absence.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.  


**BPOV**

"Howdy neighbor." Edward greeted me when I opened my front door bright and early on the morning of New Year's Eve.

"Hey Flanders." I responded with a raised eyebrow. It was completely lost on me how he could be so enthusiastic so early in the morning, but that was just another one of those things about Edward. He was a morning person.

"Think fast." He blurted, and underhanded a pack of cigarettes in my direction. My eyes followed the trail of the little white and blue box as it glanced off my arm and hit the threshold with an audible thwack.

"You've got to stop throwing stuff to me." I huffed as I bent down to pick up the pack.

"You've got to learn how to catch." He countered.

I petulantly stuck my tongue out at him and turned back into my apartment, the open door behind me serving as an unspoken invitation for him to follow.

"Mm. Something smells good."

"Blueberry pancakes. You hungry?"

"You'll never catch me turning down your cooking." He said as he took a seat at the countertop.

I smiled and moved back to the counter and the bowl of batter I'd abandoned when Edward knocked on my door. A few minutes later, I had two stacks of pancakes on two plates and was pouring us glasses of orange juice when I heard my phone start blaring 'Tiny Dancer' from the other room.

"Alice?" Edward mumbled, spewing crumbs out of his mouth in the process. I looked down at his plate and realized he'd already made a nice dent in the stack in the two seconds it'd been in front of him.

I grimaced. "Barbaric pig." I grumbled and walked out to the living room.

I got to the phone just as Elton was starting to sing the chorus over again.

"You've reached the stone age." I chimed into the receiver, making a point of talking loud enough for Edward to hear it. I heard him laugh, and then I cringed to think about the amount of crumbs that were now on my counter. Yuck.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." Alice said into my ear. I picked up on the fact that she was using her 'annoyed voice'. She hated being out of the loop.

"Never mind. What's up Al?"

She sighed in frustration. "Did you happen to leave a disposable camera at my place?"

"No. Why?" I flopped down on the sofa.

"Me and Jazz were moving the couch and I found one under it."

"Huh. Well, no, it's not mine. Get it developed, maybe that'll help."

"Yeah. They didn't even use that much film. There's still, like, twenty pictures left on it. I'll just use the rest tonight and then get it developed. Finders, keepers."

"I hope whoever it belonged to wasn't a real creep. You better hope there's no porn on it. I think you can get arrested for that."

"Of course, you would think of that." She said with a laugh.

"Gotta be prepared." I said. "So are you going to need any help ahead of time tonight, or what?" I asked, pushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

"No. Jasper's here. We have it covered."

I shrugged to myself. "Works for me."

"Your only job is to have your butt here and looking beautiful."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

"Conceited bitch." She said, and laughed. "I have a lot to do. I'll see you tonight."

"I'll be there. Bye."

"Later."

I hung up the phone and shoved it in my pocket as I stood up. When I got back into the kitchen, Edward was already almost three quarters of the way through his plate.

"You really are an animal." I scoffed, shaking my head.

"Did I hear something about porn?" He inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, me and Alice are shooting one. You want in?" I quipped sarcastically, hopping up onto the stool beside him.

"That depends. Can I work the camera?" He asked seriously. I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Because if I can direct it, then you can count me in."

"You're so demented." I pointed my butter knife in his direction. "Shut up and eat your food, El Pervo."

He obliged by stabbing a huge section of the pancake with his fork, folding it over, and shoving it into his mouth. I scowled at him and turned in my chair to face the other direction, flipping my hair at him.

"What time are we heading over there tonight?" Edward asked me a few seconds later, tapping on my shoulder. "I'm done eating, by the way."

"I'm thinking we'll hit the subway at 7:30ish, that way we'll have plenty of time if the trains are running stupid, which they usually are on New Year's." I answered, turning back toward him. "Can you be ready by then, or do I need to allot more time for your hair?" I jibbed.

"I thought you said you always go early to help Alice?" He asked, ignoring my wit.

"Not tonight. She said her and Jasper have it covered." I held up a finger while I swallowed a bite of food. "Wait. No. She said 'we' have it covered." I corrected, and rolled my eyes.

"They're turning into 'we' people already?" He shook his head morosely.

"_We_ like that movie. _We_ love that band. _We_ can't go out tonight." I ranted.

"_We_ are going shopping for a shorter leash."

I laughed with my mouthful and slapped my hand over my face before food could come flying out. "Alice doesn't have him on a leash." I managed to get out after I recovered and choked down the renegade flapjack.

"She doesn't need to. Jazz worships the ground her tiny little feet walk on."

I took a sip of my orange juice and cleared my throat. _You really need to chew your food better_. "Whatever. If they're happy, more power to them. They both deserve it."

"Can't argue with that."

"I give it two months, tops, until they're living together."

He looked at me like I had just told him the sky was hot pink. "Two months? Yeah, right."

I shrugged. "I'm telling you. No more than two months."

"I give it six months, minimum."

I barked a laugh. "You obviously don't know Alice very well."

"So, you've seen her do this with other guys before?"

"Are you kidding?" I smirked. "No. Never." I shook my head. "Alice is going to start scoping out spots to open up her store soon. She'll be insanely busy with that, and Jasper lives an hour away as it is. She'll ask him to move in." I said certainly.

He shook his head. "There in lies the problem, oh wise one. I know my brother. He's not the type to just jump in head first."

"Newsflash, Edward: he's already invested. You said it yourself; he's crazy about her. Two months." I declared, pointedly stabbing a piece of pancake with my fork.

"Would you be willing to bet on that?" He asked doubtfully.

"Absolutely." I answered with confidence.

"Okay. Why don't we make this a little more interesting, then?" He grinned mischievously.

I turned the rest of the way around to face him straight on, and crossed my legs. "What did you have in mind?"

"Twenty bucks says Jasper doesn't move in with Alice for at least six months."

"Twenty bucks? Come on, that's weak. I thought you said we were going to make this _interesting_?"

"Well, see, there's interesting, and then there's _interesting_." He drawled, looking me up and down suggestively.

I clucked my tongue at him. "You have a dirty, dirty mind, Cullen."

He smirked his sexy, crooked smirk. "Exactly. I thought you'd appreciate it if I tried to keep it PC." I rolled my eyes. "Okay, then. What do you want to wager for?"

"I only want one thing." I said matter-of-factly. "I want to drive that sweet ass ride of yours."

"You want to drive my car? That's it?" He asked.

"I don't mean, like, just driving it from here to the store and back. I know you have some power under that hood. I want to take it out and really hit the gas."

"You really are a wild child at heart, aren't you?"

"Riding around in fast cars was a staple of my adolescence. What can I say? The thrill never gets old." He was looking at me skeptically, and I laughed. "What? Don't act like you don't put the pedal to the metal sometimes."

"The things is, I always pegged you as the type of girl who starts clinging to the seat if the speedometer hits over 80."

"That better be a joke." I warned.

"Bella, you shit your pants when you see a spider."

"Those are two completely unconnected subjects."

He sighed and shook his head at me. "Fine. If Alice and Jasper are living together in two months, you can take my car for a joy ride."

"Yes!" I exclaimed, fist pumping the air above me.

"And if I win…" He started, scratching the day old scruff on his chin, "if I win, you have to cook me dinner for a week. I'm talking three course meals, dessert and everything."

I arched an eyebrow. "Deal."

He stuck his hand out to me. "Fine. We have a bet."

I shook his hand firmly. "May the best woman win." I teased with a smug smile.

It didn't startle me anymore to realize just how easy it was for me to be around Edward, even pre-showered and in my pajamas. This was very typical of us now. It was seamless. It was comfortable. But even though it didn't surprise me, I would be lying if I said it didn't scare me.

Eventually, I had breakfast cleaned up, and in keeping with the competitive nature of our meal, I managed to goad Edward into taking on some Beatles Rockband. I declared myself a guitar goddess and nabbed the guitar before he could get his hands on it. He reluctantly sat on the couch to play the drums, and Paul crawled right up on to his lap. Little P sat there patiently while Edward and I trash talked each other, staring at the TV like he was really interested in what was playing across the screen.

The first song I put on was 'I Saw Her Standing There', and as soon as it started playing, Edward was belting out the lyrics.

"Flexing the old pipes, are we?" I asked, staring at him with wide eyes.

He just smiled at me and continued on singing.

When I looked at him just then, a rush of feeling crashed over me all at once, like a tidal wave without a warning. I was hit with how much this beautiful man really had come to mean to me. It wasn't just that he was fun to be around, or the feelings I had for him. It wasn't just about the inexplicable magnetic pull we seemed to have toward each other, or the lust that I felt every time he touched me. It was more than that. Times like these, when we just hung out and had a few laughs, made all the stresses seem infinitesimal. This was the core of what we were, beyond the burden of the complicated emotions and evasions. We were friends. I appreciated him. I cared about him on a basic level, a very human, simple, visceral level. And he was quickly becoming my best friend.

"Is my seductive singing voice distracting you, or is it just my good looks?"

"You're an ass." I said, rolling my eyes at his smug expression. I turned my face away, trying to hide the blush that heated my cheeks.

"I'm just saying, maybe you should save the eyefucking for later. Right now, your preoccupation is bringing down the band." He said severely.

"If anything's bringing down the band, it's your mediocre drum skills, Ringo." I taunted him.

"I do have a broken hand, you know."

"Excuses, excuses. I hope you fix cars better than you play the drums." I turned to look at him again. "I want to make sure I'll be safe when I'm tearing up the streets in your car."

"You're not going to win the bet, so it's a moot point."

"We'll see about that. I'm going to win this bet just as sure as you suck at Rockband." I ribbed as the song ended.

"Play me in Guitar Hero when my hand isn't broken, and I'll kick your ass."

"The thing is, I'm _kind of_ a nice person sometimes, so I wouldn't embarrass you like that. I mean, face it, I would _own_ your ass in Guitar Hero."

"I'll rock your world, little girl."

"Let's not make promises we can't keep, slick."

"That's not a promise, it's a guarantee."

I narrowed my eyes. "Too bad you'll never have the chance to make good on that guarantee."

"Don't underestimate my persistence, Bella." He said with a faint laugh.

"Oh, I don't underestimate you by any means."

He sighed. "It's only a matter of time until you find out."

"Find out what, exactly?"

A few seconds passed in loaded silence. I was completely aware that our conversation had slipped from innocence, and was now deep into sexual innuendo territory.

"How mad my Guitar Hero skills are." He answered, smiling that crooked smile.

I laughed breathlessly. "When your hand heals, we'll see. When can you take the brace off, anyways?"

"Like two more weeks."

"That's good." I said fervently, then turned most of my attention back to the game on the screen because my lack of concentration made it so he actually was starting to kick my ass. "I still feel bad about that, you know."

"I deserved it." He answered nonchalantly.

"Yeah, you kind of did." I agreed.

After a while of throwing more digs and 'accidental' elbows and kicks in each other's direction, we settled into just having fun with it. Together, we absolutely killed it on the difficult songs, and I'm pretty sure we may have set the bar for both Get Back and Helter Skelter. I played the guitar and jammed my fool head off, jumping around wildly in circles and head banging until my head throbbed. Edward just shook his head and grinned at me, but he did manage to hold back the laughs until I, being the person I am, did the inevitable. I banged my shin right into the leg of the coffee table, and went down in a crumpled heap to the floor, cracking up laughing through the stinging pain.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, trying to be concerned through his barely contained laughter.

"Yeah. I'll be fine." I rubbed the spot on my right shin that was already turning splotchy and red. "That bruise is going to look sexy later."

"Enough rocking out for you for today." He announced as he helped me to my feet. "You don't want to start the New Year off all battered and bruised, do you?"

"There can never be enough rocking out. I wanna rock'n'roll all night, and party every day." I said sternly.

"I think you get enough excitement at night as it is." He said. His tone was joking on the surface, but there it was. The little bit of awkwardness, the tension that lurked behind every single second between us.

"That's debatable." I said quietly, and kneeled down on the floor, suddenly distracted with turning off the game system.

I heard him sigh and, after a few seconds, he spoke in a tight voice. "Wow. Is it really that late already?"

"Yeah." I cleared my throat a little and tried to make my voice pleasant. "I'm going to hop in the shower and start doing the five million things girls need to do before they go out, so…"

"Okay. Yeah. I'll see you at 7:30 then?"

"7:30 sharp."

"Don't worry, I know how you are about your punctuality." His voice was back to normal, it's joking ease.

"And remember what we talked about!" I shouted as I heard him making his way for the door.

"Green shirt. Got it, mom."

I heard him close the door behind him and I sat down where I was on the floor, crossing my legs under me. I sighed and leaned my head into my hands, running them over my face and through my hair, tugging at the ends as I shook my head. It made me so mad that we could never just _be_ for a while. We were having such a great time together, and we would continue to have these good times. But it would always be there. The shadow of what I did for a living would hang over my head and contaminate every happy moment.

And I'd just have to accept that, I guess. That's the price I'd have to pay.

**EPOV**

When I first saw that blue dress in the store, I knew right away that it would look great on her. Everything about it screamed Bella, like it was tailor made just for her. I could picture her in it; the way it would hug her soft curves, and show off her amazing legs… and the way those perfect tits would sit in the top. _You really are fucking obsessed._

I knocked on the door and when it swung open a few seconds later, I was blown away. My mind had done the reality no justice at all, and I was grateful for the fluke of me actually picking out women's clothes. Bella's slim legs stuck out from under the skirt and went on longer than the Brooklyn Bridge, down to a pair of black high heels that could only be described as 'fuck me pumps'. And shit, did I want to.

She had her hair half pulled back and the rest fell pin straight around her back and shoulders. She wasn't wearing a lot of makeup, but she wasn't someone who needed it anyways. Her lips were glossy and turned up in a smile, the bottom one tucked between her teeth shyly.

Her skin was milk and roses as I took her hand and twirled her around for a full view of her beauty sheathed in the little dress, and my heart ached just looking at her. I whistled, and she blushed deeper.

"You look amazing." I breathed.

She ducked her head and smiled. "Thanks."

"Seriously. Freaking phenomenal." I emphasized.

"You look handsome." She said, and took a step closer to me. She reached her hands up to my neck and smoothed the collar of my shirt. "You should wear green more often. It's a good color on you."

"Oh, so that's why you insisted on me wearing this shirt?"

"Yup." She answered and stepped back to appraise me. "It brings out your eyes." She said idly, then patted my chest, apparently satisfied that I was presentable.

I helped her into a black coat that was longer than the dress itself and she grabbed a little black purse thing that I'm pretty sure is called a 'clutch' or something. Then we were out the door.

"It's freezing out here." Bella griped when we got outside, rubbing her hands together.

"Says the girl whose immune to the wicked powers of the New York winter."

"I never claimed immunity. When there's snow falling it's easy to ignore the numbing of your toes." She pulled out a cigarette and held the box out to me. "Want one?"

I slipped one from her pack. She closed it and put it in her bag, then handed me a lighter.

"So, what's your resolution?" I asked after my cig was lit.

"My resolution?"

"Yeah. New Year's resolution. Everyone has one."

She looked slightly like a deer caught in the headlights, as if the idea hadn't even occurred to her. Then her eyes cleared up and she cracked a smile.

"Same as last year, I guess." She took a long drag of her cigarette and breathed it out. "Quit smoking."

"Oh yeah? How's that working out for you?" I jibbed.

"Not so good. You'd think I'd think to make a new resolution, since I've been working on this one for oh, I don't know, five years now."

"Maybe it's time for a new one."

"Whatever. Quit, don't quit… it doesn't make all that much of a difference in the end. We all die regardless, right?"

"That's not a very good outlook to get you to stick to your guns."

"Yeah, well… it's my cop out resolution, I guess. I just don't care enough to try." I sighed and shook my head at her. "What?" She asked.

"I just don't like when you talk like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you don't give a shit whether you live or die." I spit, with a little more venom than necessary.

"So serious." She said sarcastically.

"I _am_ serious."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes at me in that infuriating way. "Look whose talking, Smokey Robinson. You're just as bad as I am with these things." She held the cigarette up in front of me.

"That's besides the point."

"So, what's yours, then?"

I took a long drag of my cigarette and blew out the smoke. "Quit smoking." I smirked, and she shoved me off the curb.

"Ass."

It was our lucky night, because as soon as we got down the stairs to the subway, a train was pulling up. We made it to Alice's in no time, and to my surprise, there were already at least thirty people in the hallway. The entire house was decked out in decorations, sparkles and glitter and all sorts of shiny shit hung from everywhere you looked. There was a banner with huge letters saying 'Happy New Year!' hanging from the banister. Dance music pumped through speakers and tables were set up everywhere with drinks and snacks. Bella just shrugged like it was nothing new, and led me up the stairs to Alice's apartment.

"Look who's here." Jasper yelled as soon as he spotted us.

I clapped him on the shoulder when we reached them. Alice and Bella hugged, and Alice whispered something to Bella that made her roll her eyes. Jasper grabbed Bella around the shoulders and kissed her temple.

"You look beautiful, doll."

"Thanks, Jasper."

Alice seemed to already have a few drinks in her tiny body. She threw her arms around my waist and hugged the fucking breath right out of me.

"Hey, fuckable new neighbor." She trilled.

"Alice!" Bella chided.

I laughed and hugged Alice back, and winked at Bella over her head. Bella blushed, put her hand over her face, and turned away.

Alice could be a bit obnoxious sometimes, but I was discovering that it was part of her charm. She was a little ball of excitement and energy, and I could see why both Bella and Jasper loved her so much. I liked her a lot.

"Look at that dress!" Alice exclaimed, breaking away from me and going over to Bella. "Oh my God, Bella, that looks gorgeous on you!"

"Yeah, it fits great." Bella said with a smile.

"Seriously, Edward, you know how to pick a dress."

Jasper laughed. "Yeah, Edward, maybe there's a future for you in the fashion world."

"I'll stick with cars, thanks." I leaned in closer to Jasper and whispered, "Are Rosalie and Emmett here yet?"

"No, not yet." He looked from me to Bella and back. "She's not going to be very happy when she sees you."

"I know." I shrugged.

"Good luck." He said fervently.

I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. Thanks."

The four of us made conversation for a bit while they sipped on their drinks. It seemed like only minutes passed before Alice's apartment was completely packed wall to wall with people. The place was starting to get loud, and someone must've turned the music up, because it was becoming almost impossible to hear each other speak. Eventually, Bella dragged me out of the apartment and to the front porch to have a cigarette. We were outside for all of two minutes when her phone started ringing with Alice's ring tone.

"Shoot." She sighed.

"What?"

"Alice is having a drunken wardrobe malfunction. She needs me upstairs." She cracked a smile. "Will you be all right by yourself for a few?"

"I'll manage."

She snubbed out her cigarette on the step and used my shoulder to help her stand up. She went inside, and I sat alone smoking my cig. Not two minutes later, I heard the front door open.

"Edward, right?"

"Hm?" I said, turning around toward the source of the voice. A short girl with big curly hair was looking at me with a huge grin on her face. She was wearing a dress that was way too short and her boobs were falling out of the top.

"We met before. On Halloween. I'm Jessica." She told me as she sat down beside me.

"Oh, right. Yeah, I remember. What's going on?"

"Nothing much. Are you enjoying the party?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's… a party."

"Why are you sitting out here alone?" She asked, taking a swig from her red cup.

"I'm not. Well, I _wasn't_ alone. Bella just ran inside for a second."

Jessica grimaced. "Oh. Bella. You're not dating her, right?"

I laughed, and took a pull on my cigarette. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and looked out across the front lawn.

"Is that a no?" She pressed in her nasally voice.

"No, Bella and I are not dating."

"Good for you. I mean it. Seriously, that girl is such a drag, I don't know how she doesn't get tired of herself." She sighed. "I mean, it's like, hello; you're an average looking girl. Smile a little once in a while. Like, don't be so preoccupied with feeling so superior to everyone else, you know?" I shook my head at her. "Yeah, you read books for fun and use big words in sentences. So what? Am I supposed to be impressed? Well, I'm not. Like guys actually pay attention to that kind of stuff anyways. Well, some do, I guess. You know what I mean." She looked at me. "I'm totally right though. Maybe if she would let her uptight self loose once in a while, you would be saying yes to that dating question." She took another gulp from her cup. By the way she was acting, I could tell it wasn't her first of the night.

"It's a little more complicated than-"

"And I bet she'd actually be pretty if she put a little effort into her appearance. Some makeup, maybe some layers in her hair or something. I totally get the whole 'natural beauty' thing, but come on, who is she kidding? A little eyeliner and a haircut wouldn't kill her. Please." She scoffed.

"I think she's beautiful the way she is."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Of course you would say that. You're a nice guy, and apparently, her friend for some reason that I just don't understand. She doesn't even have a personality. She's so vanilla, it's sickening."

I laughed, and she raised her eyebrows at me. "I'm sorry, it's just… you really must not know Bella that well. Or at all. She's the most down to earth, hilarious, fun person I know. To say she doesn't have a personality is like… I don't even know. It's just wrong."

"It's sweet of you to defend her." She said, with a look on her face that told me she didn't think it was sweet at all. "But let's not talk about Bella anymore." She cooed, snaking her arm through mine. "Let's talk about you."

"Maybe some other time." I pulled my arm out of hers, stood up, and threw my butt off the porch. "I'm going back inside."

She stumbled to her feet and came to my side. "Okay. Do you want to get a drink with me?"

I opened my mouth to speak, about to say something that wasn't nice at all, but the n the door opened in front of me. Bella stepped out, and for a second, she looked back and forth between Jessica and I. I saw a wicked glint come into her eye, then she folded her arms across her chest, and leaned against the doorway.

"Hey Jess." She said pleasantly.

"Bella." Jessica answered insolently. "If you would excuse us, Edward and I were just going to get a drink."

"Oh really?" Bella asked, amused.

"Yeah."

Bella looked at me and smirked. "Edward, you did tell her that you don't drink, right?"

"No, actually. I didn't get to it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised. It's usually impossible to get a word in edge wise with Jess, here." She turned to Jessica. "Edward doesn't drink."

"I'm sorry, are you his keeper?" The drunk girl spit at her.

"If I say yes, will you go away?"

"Bite me, Bella."

"You see, I would, but I'm afraid I might pop one of your life preservers there." She said, taking no subtly as she pointed directly at Jessica's chest. "I'd hate for you to have to sell your car to get a new set. Oh, wait. You already did that."

"My boobs are NOT fake!" Jessica screeched.

"Please. And I'm Princess Diana reincarnated." Bella scoffed and rolled her eyes. "The only real thing about you might be your brain… and considering it's minuscule size, that's not really saying much."

"You're just jealous because you're barely out of a training bra."

"Oh no, Jessica Stanley thinks my tits are too small. Excuse me while I go cry in a corner."

"It's a wonder how you even have any friends. You're a bitch."

"And you're a little late to the party, because I figured that out years ago. Why don't you move along and go bother someone who cares?" She said dismissively, waving her fingers.

"Bella Swan, I swear on everything-"

"Are you still here?"

"Edward wants me here." She said smugly. "We were having a nice time until you showed up."

Bella threw up her hands in surrender. "Oh, I'm so very sorry for intruding. Edward, by all means, if you want her to stay, just say the word."

"Uhhh…" I started, and ran my hand through my hair, feeling very much put on the spot with both Bella and Jess staring at me.

Bella interceded before I could answer. "See, he's too nice to say it, so I guess I have to be the bitch. Again. Go. Away."

Jessica looked back and forth between the two of us and, with a huff, she pushed past Bella and stomped into the house.

I clapped my hands together. "Wow. The lioness is out to play tonight, huh?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. "Girls like that grind my gears. I don't have patience for her superficial bubble gum drama."

"Did she really sell her car to get a boob job?"

Bella nodded and giggled. "A 98 Pontiac."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. For that kind of money, I'm convinced it was a back alley job."

I shook my head. "You're terrible."

"So, did you have a nice, illuminating conversation with the always deep Jessica Stanley?"

"Well, I did find out that she doesn't like you too much."

She feigned shock. "Really? And I liked her so much. I'm devastated!" I laughed. "What did she say about me?"

"A lot of things. Well, it kind of seemed like the same redundant thing over and over in different ways. And she used the word 'like' a lot." I shuddered. "She did call you 'vanilla' though."

She put her arm up in front of her and examined it. "Hm. Well, I prefer 'albino', but vanilla works too." She winked at me. "Come on. Let's go inside."

I nodded and followed her back into the party. We pushed our way through the wall of bodies to reach the furthest corner of the hallway by Eric's apartment door. It was virtually the only standing space left in the hall.

Bella leaned toward me, and I ducked my head so she could put her lips to my ear. "Hey, I'm going to go grab a drink, okay? I definitely need one after that."

"Yeah, sure."

"Do you want anything? Water or soda or something?"

"No, I'm good."

"Okay. I'll be right back." She poked me in the side and walked away.

I leaned back against the wall and scanned the crowd with my eyes aimlessly. After a few minutes, I felt someone grab on to my arm. I whipped myself around, and was faced with a livid Rosalie. I swallowed hard.

I hadn't talked to Rosalie much since Bella and I had resolved our issues. No, that's the wrong way to put it. Our problems were nowhere near solved… it was more like we put them on the backburner. But Rose had been watching me skeptically for weeks. She knew me well enough that she could tell something had changed. That's why I'd been avoiding her; I knew she would be upset, especially after she told me specifically to stay away from Bella.

"Heaven must be missing an angel. You look radiant tonight."

Her harsh expression didn't budge. "Don't try to be cute with me. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Um, celebrating New Year's Eve, for-"

"With Bella." Her tone was 100% no nonsense. She was beyond angry. "You came here with Bella." She repeated.

"Yeah."

"I knew it. I knew from that dopey look you've had on your face all week that you were talking to her again." She shook her head fiercely. "What happened to 'I'll stay away from her, Rose. It won't be a problem'."

I shrugged. "Things change."

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so she stopped having sex for money? Or you stopped falling face first into the pile of dog shit that is your feelings for her?"

"Rose…"

"No. Don't 'Rose' me. Tell me, exactly what has changed that justifies you to be spending all your time with someone who had you nearly falling off the wagon?"

"Nothing's changed… exactly. We're just… we're working on it. We're trying to figure things out… stay friends, under the circumstances."

Her eyes bugged out of their sockets. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Why are you making such a big deal about this?"

"Because!" She shrieked. Then she glanced around, and took a step closer to me. "Because, Edward, this is a big fucking deal." She said lowly. "I know you care about her, and I know she cares about you, and that is exactly why this is a situation you need to take yourself out of."

I shook my head. "No. That's not going to happen."

She gritted her teeth. "Look, I've been trying my damndest not to judge Bella or what she does. The only thing I'm concerned about is you. Right now, you are so wrapped up in Bella that you can't even see straight. You can't see the damage this is going to cause you, but I'm not blind. I can see it." Her voice was rising in volume again. "You shouldn't be spending time with her, period. Not as friends, not as anything. And it's a stupid, stupid thing for you to try."

"That's not a decision that you can make for me." I said tightly.

"Can you please not make me the enemy? I'm trying to help you, Edward."

"You can help me by getting the fuck off my back and letting me live my own life." I spit at her, and turned to walk away.

She clamped down on my arm and pulled me toward the open door beside us. I tried to pull my arm free, but she just dug her fingernails into my skin. She pulled me out the back door and into the slab of concrete surrounded by weeds that served as a backyard. Only when we were down the steps did she let go of my arm and turn to face me.

"I don't want to make a scene about this. And contrary to what you might think, I'm _not_ trying to control you. But I'm not going to sit back and watch you throw away everything you've worked so hard for just for a girl who is no good for you."

I laughed bitterly and turned back to face her. "Would you cut the shit? It's not like I'm running off to the promise land of sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll. I'm just _being friends_ with someone. You're talking like she's the fucking anti Christ."

"It's not like that. I know she's a nice person, but she's just not the type of person for you to spend time around. The girl obviously has issues, or else she wouldn't be doing what she does."

"Who doesn't? Everybody has problems."

"You have enough of your own to deal with. You don't need to take on hers, too."

"I'm not taking on anything."

"Yes, you are. Or at least you're trying to. I know you, Edward." She shook her head. "You can't save her, or fix her, or whatever the hell your intention is."

I swallowed and glared down at the floor. "What I do is my decision, okay?"

"Your judgment is clouded. You're not making good choices."

"That's your opinion."

She laughed without humor. "Okay, I'm trying really hard not to be a complete bitch about this. But I think I have a right to be, because I'm going to be the one scraping you up off the floor when you just can't deal anymore. You've tried to carry the world before, Edward, I've seen it. And it all came crashing down on your head. Not to mention on everyone else around you. You can't take on your problems and shoulder hers, too. You just can't."

"I'm not talking about this anymore." I almost yelled.

That set Rosalie off. I saw the spark ignite in her hard blue eyes, and I knew what that meant. She was done trying to reason with me, and she was changing strategy. She was going to go for the throat. "Fine. I'll give it to you straight then. Fact is, she's a hooker. A fucking prostitute, Edward. Trash. White trash. You are way too good for that."

Even though I knew her system, it still worked, and I was antagonized. "Don't you talk about her that way." I growled, pointing a finger in her face.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"You don't know anything about her."

"I know that she'll give it up to anyone willing to spend a few clams. Tell me, Edward, have you gotten in her pants yet, or is she a little out of your price range?"

"That's enough, Rosalie." I took a huge step that took me right in front of her. I was in her face, towering above her. I stared down at her and she looked the few inches up at me with unwavering eyes. "If you weren't my fucking brother's wife, I swear-"

Emmett came barreling through the back door and down the steps toward us, and stuck a hand between Rose and me. He pushed me away from her and stood between us with his arms extended. "What the fuck is going on with you two?"

"Why don't you ask your brother about how he's been going around with his little rent-a-slut!"

"Don't call her that!" I shouted.

"Hold on. What?" Emmett asked, confused.

"You know Edward's little friend Bella? Yeah, she's a tramp for hire."

I looked at Emmett. "She works for an escort agency."

"She's a prostitute! She spreads her legs for cash!"

"It's none of your God damn business anyways!"

"Fuck you, it's not my business! You're my family; I'll make it my business."

Emmett stepped in. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Am I missing something here? I get that Bella's a- whatever you want to call it, and you don't respect that. But why does this matter so much to you?" He asked Rosalie.

"It matters because your brother is drowning in this girl and he has no intention of taking hold of the life preserve." She looked at me and shook her head. "You're in way too deep with her and it's going to destroy you. She's not good for you. She does what she does for a reason."

"You don't seem to have any problems with Alice." I accused.

"Jasper can take care of himself. And Alice left her job for him; she's putting in the effort to be with him. You and Bella aren't even headed in that direction! It's nonsense for you to waste your time and effort on a girl who isn't even going to be with you! All your going to get out of this is hurt, and compromising your sobriety."

"Why the fuck do you have it in your head that I'm so fucking weak?" I yelled. "You treat me like I'm this breakable object that you need to scrutinize at all times. If I wanted to be monitored 24/7 I would've stayed at mom and dad's. I'm a grown man. I can make my own choices."

"I don't think you're weak, Edward, but you're not strong enough. Fuck, you thought you were strong enough to deal with anything, and then you relapsed, didn't you?"

"Don't you throw that in my face!"

"I'm making a point. I'm trying to help you."

"If this is your idea of help, then I don't want it. I'm telling you to back the fuck off."

"When are you finally going to get it, huh? When you're six feet under? When your family has to bury you, just like I had to bury Garrett? Maybe then you'll get it. Maybe then you'll understand."

"I'm. Not. Garrett." I said through gritted teeth.

"But you're _not_ okay. And you won't be okay, not with Bella pulling you down."

"You know what Rose? Fuck you. Just fuck you."

"You're not invincible, Edward, no matter how badly you want to believe that! You're a recovering drug addict. And if you relapse because of her, I swear to God…"

I ran my hand through my hair in aggravation and turned my head away for a split second. And then I froze.

Bella was standing there stock still, her eyes as wide as saucers, staring at me. She heard what Rosalie said.

As I watched her in silence, fumbling around in my brain trying to think of what to say, I saw her face go from shock, to confusion, and then harden into anger. She was numbing herself to me; I could feel it, just as if she were putting up a tangible shield.

_What have I done?_

**BPOV**

I came back through the crowd to find that Edward was not where I had last seen him. I saw Jake and grabbed him by the arm.

"What's up, Bella?"

"Have you seen Edward? I mean, he was just here like five minutes ago, but…" I trailed off, shrugging.

"Oh, yeah. I saw Rosalie pulling him."

"Pulling him?"

He reached up and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah. Looked like she had a nice death grip on his arm. I only noticed because she pushed me out of her way. She looked… pretty severe. Even for her."

I blanched. "Um, did you see what direction they were headed in?"

"I think they went out the back."

"Thanks Jake."

I raced past him before he could respond. _Fuck_. I could picture it in my head, Rosalie tearing into Edward because of me. Because I went against the only thing she asked of me. I pushed through the back door of Eric's apartment and heard Rosalie's voice right away.

"You're not invincible, Edward, no matter how badly you want to believe that! You're a recovering drug addict. And if you relapse because of her, I swear to God…"

I was at the bottom of the steps, and I froze in my tracks. Edward turned his head toward me, and his face went pale white.

_Recovering drug addict. Relapse_. Holy fuck. My shock subsided surprisingly fast, and gave way to a split second of confusion. _What the hell is she talking about? Edward… and… wait_. The words sunk into my brain slowly, but somehow instantaneously. Edward. He was a recovering drug addict. That's what Rosalie had been going on about. Edward was an addict. And he never told me.

Suddenly, I wasn't confused anymore. I was angry. I was fuming and devastated, and I didn't want to feel. So I did what my instincts told me to do. I made myself go numb. I pushed and pushed the tears back until they were gone from my eyes.

Only seconds had passed as I processed all of this, never taking my eyes off of Edward's bewildered face. I didn't even notice that Rosalie noticed me until she was right in front of me, with her finger pointed in my face.

"If you hurt him, I swear to God I will cause you more pain than you could ever imagine." She flipped her hair and walked past me, back into the house. I vaguely processed Emmett shooting me an apologetic smile before running off after Rosalie.

My eyes, my whole focus was on Edward. I watched him silently as he walked over to me slowly, hesitantly. "Bella, I'm… are you okay?" He asked and put his hands on my shoulders.

His touch made my blood boil. I swatted his hands away. "You fucking bastard." I seethed.

He furrowed his eyebrows, and I shook my head hatefully.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and marched away from him, up the steps and into the house. I bobbed and weaved my way through the crowd without really seeing where I was going, my only destination being an escape, any escape. I don't even know what happened to the drink that I had been holding, but it seemed like one second it was still in my hand and the next, my hands were empty and balled into fists at my sides. My body was on autopilot, but my mind was numb.

The noises around me all blurred together, creating a static white noise in my ears. The only sound that didn't blur was Edward; I was fully aware of him following, calling my name from somewhere behind me, but I chose to ignore him.

The front door came into my view, but I was beyond feeling any sense of relief. I was almost out the door when one voice broke away from the haze and penetrated my ears.

"Bella!" Alice called shrilly.

Reflexively, I whipped my head around to face her, and a bright flash went off. I narrowed my eyes as spotty black dots danced in front of them, and blinked a few times until they dispersed. Alice lowered the camera, and as she took in my expression, the smile on her face fell away. I about faced and strode right out the front door.

I took the steps two at a time and was halfway down the walkway before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I shook it off, not bothering or caring enough to see who it was beforehand.

"Bella, wait!" It was Alice. As much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn't just keep walking. She would follow me. She would cry and beg me to tell her what was wrong. My pain was her pain, and vice versa. She was one person I couldn't shutout completely.

Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly turned around to face her.

"What's going on?" She asked, concern creasing her features.

"I'm leaving." I said dully.

"What? Why? It's not even midnight yet."

"I know… look, just go back to the party."

"Bella…"

"Just go, Alice." I spat.

She flinched back from my sharp voice, and even though I did care, I was too angry to apologize for it.

"Okay." She said quietly, then slunk back toward the house.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, as if the inane motion would do anything to clear it, and then I was off again. I walked out of the front yard and down the street. That's when I heard the rapid footsteps coming up behind me. Soon enough, he has caught up with me. He was right beside me. I didn't care. I ignored his presence.

He jockeyed in front of me and started walking backwards, facing me with his hands up.

"Bella…"

"I don't want to talk to you right now." I said without looking at him. My voice sounded far away, monotonous, even to my own ears.

He stopped walking and stood in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking my way. "Let me explain. Please…"

"Edward, I said don't fucking talk to me!" I screeched.

His arms dropped to his sides limply. I glanced quickly at his face before I made my way around and away from him. He looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face, and to be honest, I was just short of doing that. I was so fucking mad at him.

I'd been in such a rush to get out of the party that apparently, I'd forgotten to grab my coat on the way out, and I didn't realize until I was halfway to the subway that it was even more freezing outside than earlier. I wrapped my arms around myself and rubbed at my arms. I felt something drape over my shoulders while I was walking, and it surprised me. My stride faltered and I looked up to see the apologetic look on Edward's face.

"You look so cold. I don't want you to-"

I shrugged the jacket off my shoulders, letting it fall to the ground, and continued walking.

"I don't want anything from you." I fumed.

When I got down the steps to the grubby subway platform, I walked all the way to the furthest side and sat down on the grimy wooden bench. I lit a cigarette and crossed my legs. Edward wisely kept his distance, standing up on the complete opposite end of the platform.

The train came and I waited until he got on before I did, so I could be sure we wouldn't be in the same car. I couldn't handle being near him right now. I wouldn't be able to keep my temper from flaring if I were forced to be close to him.

I walked ten feet ahead of him from the subway station back to our building. I practically ran to the elevator, throwing my whole body into the wall as I slammed my hand down on the button. It took its sweet ass time coming back down, and by the time the doors opened, Edward was already in the lobby. _Damn this thing for being so fucking slow_.

I stood with my arms folded across my chest, staring straight ahead at the stainless steel doors. Distorted versions of our reflections were cast back from the surface, and I could see Edward's crumpled stature compared to my tight, livid one. He kept glancing toward me, and every time he did, I straightened my back a little more. I couldn't keep my toe from tapping or my teeth from gnawing at my lip. I was afraid that if I ceased either action, there would be bloodshed in the lift.

It all happened in a flash. Seemingly out of nowhere, I heard what sounded like a growl come from Edward. Then he suddenly reached around me, and before I could realize what he was doing, the elevator screeched and came to a jolting stop. I looked to where his hand was, pressed down on the red emergency stop button. I turned to face him, bewildered, and not the least bit amused.

"What are you doing?" I prompted scathingly, trying to maneuver around him to get to the button.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm not doing this again, okay? I'm not going to let you give me the cold shoulder. We're not getting out of this elevator until you talk to me."

"What do you want me to say to you, huh?" I pushed his hands off of me. "Edward, it's taking everything I have right now not to gouge your damn eyes out. Start the elevator." I warned through gritted teeth.

"No." He said adamantly.

"There are like 100 other people who live in this building. You can't just stop it."

"It's 11 o'clock on New Year's Eve. Whoever's going out is already out. I think we're good."

I was getting really annoyed. "So we're just going to stay in the elevator all night?"

"Until you talk to me, yeah."

I narrowed my eyes up at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "In that case, you better get fucking comfortable."

"Will you at least listen to me then?"

"Short of sticking my fingers in my ears, I don't think I really have a choice." I spat, gesturing the space between us to nothing in particular. I thought the fact that we were trapped in this iron enclosure alone stressed my point. I turned my face away and stared at the commercial flecked linoleum on the walls; since I couldn't physically get away from him, this was the best way I had of showing my avoidance.

He sighed and punched his right fist into the wall without much force. "I'm sorry. I know I fucked up, and I should've told you about this. But I didn't really think… I mean it crossed my mind but I wasn't concentrating on that…I was just, I don't know. Fuck. I don't know what to say."

"Great explanation." I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

When he spoke again, there was an air of irritation clear in his tone. "I didn't think you really needed to know." He said tightly.

I stared at the wall and shook my head slowly, but otherwise, I said nothing. I didn't know what to say to him. I was so angry and hurt, that all I wanted to do was ignore him. But a part of me knew that I shouldn't let him off that easily. He deserved to hear the rage that was pent up in my chest. Why should I let him off so easy, after all the shit he gave me for lying to him? He had kept himself from me. He had the audacity to berate me for not telling him about my job, while he was keeping something huge from me, too. And he didn't think I had the right to know in the first place? No. That shit was not going to fly. He wouldn't get off scot-free when I had to suffer for my actions.

I dropped my arms to my sides, squared my shoulders, and looked at him. He was bracing himself with one hand against the wall, his head bowed, staring at the floor.

"How could you even say that? You _didn't think_ I _needed_ to _know_? What the fuck is _that_?"

"It's not… it's not a factor anymore. I stopped, I mean…it's not who I am."

I shook my head and laughed humorlessly. "You are the biggest God damn hypocrite I have ever met in my life. And relatively speaking, that's saying a lot."

"What?"

"_What?_ Are we really going to play that fucking game, Edward?" I balled my hands into fists at my sides. "I didn't think you needed to know about me being a call girl, but apparently, I was wrong, because you yelled at me and punished me and made me feel like a bottom of the barrel worthless bitch for not telling you the truth. But now it's perfectly fine for you to keep shit from me _just because_?"

He shook his head. "It's not like that. Not at all."

"Well, you could've fooled me." I laughed humorlessly.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

I shook my head in disbelief. "This isn't about hurt. It's about the _lies_. It's about the _double standards_. I was miserable for the whole two weeks that we didn't talk. Did you know that? I beat myself up about it every damn day. I hated myself for the rift I caused between us. And it didn't _have_ to bother me. I had no reason to be so hard on myself, because you're just as much of a liar as I am. You're just better at hiding it." I narrowed my eyes. "So, no, Edward, I'm not _hurt_. I'm fucking _pissed_."

"I know. You have every right to be-"

"Oh, I know that. I don't need your permission to be angry, trust me on that one." He just stared at me with nothing to say. "Why?" I widened my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed and ran his hands roughly over his face and through his hair. "A lot of reasons, I guess."

"Care to elaborate?" I prodded scathingly. I was in no mood for the run around.

"I wanted to tell you, okay? But there were just so many reasons not to. For one, you told me that your mother had problems with drugs. How could I just dump my shit on you, too? I didn't want to be just another person in your life who is a failure."

I scoffed. "Go fuck yourself if that's the excuse your planning on using. Don't bring my mother into this. This has nothing to do with her. This is about you, and me, and the fact that you kept something so fucking important from me."

"It's not who I am anymore."

"Can you just cut this bullshit? You're a recovering addict, Edward, and I'm not naive. I know about drugs and addiction, enough to know that this is something you're constantly struggling with. It doesn't go away, no matter how long. It's _always_ going to be _who you are_, in some sense anyway. And the fact that you kept that from me… fuck. I feel like I _don't_ even know who you are."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so fucking sorry. I should've told you. I just… I didn't want you to look at me and only see the drugs. I didn't want to be just a junkie to you."

I scoffed. "That's funny, because when I used that same logic, I was wrong."

"This is different." He said obstinately.

"Why? Because it's you and not me?"

"No. Because I may have kept my past from you, but you kept your present from me. Something relevant, something important."

"You mother fucking bullshit artist! That is a crap defense. I'm a call girl. That's what I do for a living. You're an ex-drug addict! That's a huge part of your life. That struggle is a part of what makes you who you are. You keeping that from me is only different in that it is _worse_ than what I didn't tell you." I raked my hand through my hair in frustration. "There's just… there's a huge chunk missing now. Don't you get that?"

"What do you mean?"

"The second I found out that you are a recovering drug addict… that just ripped a hole in this. Just the whole idea of you I have in my head… the way I see you. The way we are together. There is a part of you who I don't even know. A part of you that I've never seen before and never knew existed. A part that you kept hidden."

"Well, isn't it the same way with you? Yeah, I know that you're a call girl, but I don't see that part of your life."

"But I don't hide it from you. If you ask me about it, you know damn well that I tell you. I don't give you any illusions about myself, Edward. Can you say the same?"

"You don't give me any illusions? Are you kidding me? Every fucking day it's back and forth, black and white, hot and cold. One minute you're pushing me away, the next your pulling me in. Half the time, I don't even know where we stand."

"Could you just tone down your arrogant fucking brain for one millisecond? Our personal boundary issues are not on trial here. That is a completely different disaster all together. Can we stick with the one at hand?"

"You're completely missing the point."

"No. _You're_ missing the point. _You_ are the one who lied this time. This is _your_ fuck up, not mine."

"Yeah, it is. _This time_. A fuck up for a fuck up. Now we're even."

I laughed without any trace of humor. "You just have a pocketful of them tonight, huh?"

"A pocketful of what?"

"Excuses. Justifications for your lies. Reasons why you're not the bad guy in this situation." I rubbed my temples with my fingers and closed my eyes for a split second. "You know, I didn't realize until just this very moment just how arrogant you really are. So you know what? You can take your double standards and your self-righteous indignation and shove it up your ass, okay, because I'm done."

"Just like that, huh?"

"Yeah, just like that." His eyes were wide and as I watched, they filled with tears. I almost broke. I almost threw my arms around him and hugged him and kissed him and told him it was okay, but I couldn't. I wouldn't add to the lies. "Start the elevator Edward, I'm tired."

He slammed his hand down on the button and the elevator jolted back to life. I felt his eyes on me as the elevator moved up towards our floor, but I kept my eyes down, focusing on the tiles. Finally, the machine stopped and the doors slid open. I pushed myself away from the wall, but as I made for the doors, Edward stepped in front of me. I made the mistakes of looking up into his eyes, and the hateful words that I was about to say got caught in my throat. His emeralds were on fire, burning their intensity into my retinas to the point where it was impossible to speak. I took an involuntary step back, and he moved with me until I felt the cold metal wall against my back.

He cupped my face roughly in his hand and pressed his lips to mine. It took me a second, but then I was pushing at his chest until he released my lips and stumbled backward.

"No." I said lividly, retaining my anger despite my minor lapse in concentration. "You don't get to do that." I poked his chest. "Not now… not ever."

I pushed past him and strode down the hallway holding my head up high. _Just a few more feet_. Then I could break down. Then I could cry, or throw things, or just try to be numb. All I had to do was reach my door, and then I could let it all come crashing down.

One foot in front of the other, I took long strides to my door. It felt like I was holding my breath, and I knew as soon as I was behind that door, I could let it out. _Just a few more steps_.

I was disoriented momentarily as the hallway seemed to spin around me. Then I realized that it wasn't the hallway, it was _me_ that was spinning. Edward had grabbed on to me and whipped me around, and when everything was still again, I was standing with my back against his door. He was standing in front of me, his body almost pressed to mine, boxing me in. I pushed against him wit has much force as I could muster.

"Let me go, Edward." I growled.

"No." He snarled back as he turned the key in the lock, all the while not taking his eyes off of mine. He pushed the door open and I half fell into his apartment. He closed the door behind us.

"Why do you refuse to let this conversation be over?" I huffed through the darkness.

"Because, I can't." His face hardened. "Bella, I know how people look at drug addicts; with pity and disgust and contempt. They look at you like you're the scum of the earth. They don't see the struggle, they don't really see you at all; they only see the filthy, bottom feeding person that the drugs turn you into. I've been looked at that way a million times. And I couldn't risk you looking at me that way, Bella. I didn't –I don't want you to look at me and see just another junkie."

"If you honestly believe that I would just write you off because of that, than _you_ don't know _me_ at all." I turned away. "And now, I'm leaving."

"You can't just leave like this, Bella."

"You're the one always accusing me of starting round two, right? Why don't you save us both the breath and time and frustration and just leave me alone?"

"I want to resolve this, that's why. I don't want us to fight anymore. It seems like that's all we've been doing since we met, and I don't want to do it anymore."

I tented my fingers under my shin and faced him. "Maybe it's time we accept that there's nothing to fight for."

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

"It's not bullshit. It's fact."

"So everything we talked about before, how important we are to each other, how much I care about you… that we're going to make this work, none of that matters now?"

"It'll always _matter_, but it's just not _enough_ anymore. We're bad for each other."

He sighed, frustrated, and ran a hand through his hair. "This again? Really?"

"Rosalie was right. I should've listened to her before." I realized that this was what she had been warning me about, and just now, I was starting to see the damage that could really be done to Edward because of me. The insurmountable ways in which I could hurt him had been piling up since the moment we met, and this was what it all came down to. I could be his downfall. I could make him relapse.

"What do you mean _before_?" Through the dark, I saw him narrow his eyes.

"When we fought last time Rosalie called me. We met up and talked and she told me to stay away from you. She said that you couldn't deal with what I do and all that it entails, and if you stressed too much that you could… well I guess now I know that she was alluding to your drug problems." I shook my head at myself this time. "Even then, I knew she was right."

"She didn't… Bella, don't listen to her."

"How can I not? She's right. This…" I paused for a moment, "whatever we're doing, it's not healthy for either of us. Even more so now."

"We got through it last time. But I screw up, and now it's done?"

"We both did this. You just stuck the last nail in the coffin. Whatever this is, it's dead. It was unhealthy, and now it's dead."

"I'm sorry!"

I erupted. "You're always sorry! I'm always sorry! I'm sick of the constant fucking apologies! This," I pointed a finger to the space between us, "this right here is why we shouldn't be in each other's life at all. We can't get it right because we're not supposed. We're toxic to each other, and if I didn't believe that before, well I sure as hell believe it now."

"You don't mean that." He said, quiet and intense.

"Yes, I do." I said firmly. I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "We aren't even capable of being honest with each other." I told him through gritted teeth.

He just shook his head and started walking toward me slowly, coming closer in the dark. "Come here." He extended his arms at his side and reached for me.

I slapped his hands away and took a step backward. "Get the fuck away from me." I warned.

Undeterred by my hostility, he countered my backward step by taking one toward me. This time, he put his hands on my waist, trying to wrap his arms around me, trying to pull me to him. _Is he fucking serious? He's trying to hug me right now, when all I want to do was rip his arrogant face off and shove it up his ass?_ I was past pushing him away at this point; I balled my hands into fists and started pounding on his chest as hard as I could.

His face was both angry and relentless as he removed his hands from my waist. I stopped hitting him and turned to make for the door, foolishly thinking he would let me go so easily. Instead, he wrapped his hands around both of my wrists. I thrashed and struggled to pull them from his hands with no avail.

"Let go, Edward. Don't fucking touch me!" I shouted.

His eyes were dark now, his face hard and determined. He let go of my wrists, only to grab my chin roughly with one hand, the other traveling to the small of my back. He pulled my body to his with a jerk, and crashed his lips to mine. They were so soft and gently, but hungry as they tried to make mine respond, tried to find an in. All I wanted in that moment was to melt into him, to lose myself in the lips I'd been aching for, but I was too incensed to allow myself to do that. I grabbed his face with both of my hands and pushed it away violently. He broke away from me and took a step back, and I slapped him right across the face.

"Just stop! I'm done with this shit. I'm done!" I exclaimed angrily, and to my dismay, I felt hot, wet, angry traitor tears start to roll down my cheeks.

"Don't you say that!" He yelled right back at me.

He reached his hand up and I flinched back, thinking, for a fraction of a second, that his irritation might cause him to lash out at me physically. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I willed it away. Whatever Edward was, he was not a man who would ever hit a woman.

His hand came in contact with my face, but it wasn't aggressive or hurtful. He softly cupped my cheek in his hand, softly stroking my chin with his thumb. The sweet gesture stood in stark comparison to the furious tone of his voice. My instinct was to lean into his touch, but instead, I jerked my chin away from his hand and took another step back. My back was literally against the hallway wall by now, and I looked toward the door for an escape. He knew I was going to bolt for the door, and he put his arms out on either side of me, bracing himself against the wall, leaving me without an escape. He was too close to me in such a small space, and the tension crackling between us was nearly a living thing.

"Just let me go." I whispered, trying to control my voice and my tears while avoiding looking at his face.

"No." He seethed.

I turned my face back to look at him and opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off with his lips. I struggled with him again, but not nearly as strongly as I had before. It was halfhearted. I could feel the onslaught of defeat beginning to creep up from my center.

"Fucking asshole." I said against his lips.

"Stubborn bitch." He spat back angrily.

I fought his lips for a few seconds more, a final surge of self-control, until my mind gave in to what my body wanted and I was kissing him back. The anger and frustration and utter disbelief I felt toward him turned into a passionate lust, and I was hungry and aching for him from my head to my toes. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed me up against the wall.

"Please." I sighed desperately.

"Please what?" He asked.

I didn't answer. I slipped my hands around his neck and up into his hair, pulling roughly on the silky strands. He groaned into my mouth and kissed me harder. I felt his hands in my hair, and then felt it falling around my shoulders as he pulled the clip out. He pulled me away from the wall slightly, and in one swift motion, he had the back of my dress unzipped and in a pool around my feet. I stood in front of him in just my lacy black strapless bra with matching panties and black high heels.

He broke the kiss to look over my body, and he moved his hands greedily from the hem of my panties to the edge of my bra. He groaned. I narrowed my eyes and grabbed his jaw, pulling his lips to mine, open and waiting this time. His tongue moved against mine as they began their heated fight for dominance. I felt the smooth ball of his tongue ring against my tongue, and I moaned into his mouth.

My hands traveled down to his chest and I shoved him again until his back was up against the opposite wall. I hooked my fingers in the front of his shirt, and ripped it open, buttons scattering everywhere. I shoved his jacket and shirt off of his shoulders, and pressed myself flush against him.

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed off against the wall and started walking me backwards, stumbling, further into his apartment. My hands went to his belt, steady and sure in contrast to my wobbly legs, and when I had that undone I worked on the button and zipper of his jeans. I pushed them roughly down his hips.

His lips left mine for a second, and he bent his knees, grabbed hold of my thighs, and pulled me up to straddle his hips. He kissed me enthusiastically as he carried me, and a moment later, we broke apart again as he tossed me on to his bed. I watched him kick off his shoes and socks and pull his pants the rest of the way off, his face contorted in what was not quite anger, but pretty damn close. His eyes were dark with lust, and I'm sure my expression mirrored his.

I bit down on my bottom lip as I watched him crawl toward me in just a pair of green briefs and his St. Jude necklace; he was deliberate, coming toward me slowly and expertly, like a lion hunting down its prey. His rock hard cock strained against his briefs, and even covered by cloth, I could tell he was big. He was kneeling in front of me now, and I took the opportunity to drink him in.

It was the first time I had ever seen him shirtless, and I greedily raked my eyes over his glorious body. I took in the way his abs cut across his torso, toned and soft at the same time. His briefs slung low, and if I'd been standing, the sexy defined v-cut between his narrow hips would've made my knees give out. Light brown hair dusted his chest and led a tantalizing trail down between his abs to a tuft just below his navel, before disappearing into his underwear. My mind registered the patch of ink over his right peck, but it was too dark and I was too horny to make out what the tattoo was. I had never been so turned on in my life.

I lifted myself up on to my knees and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his mouth to mine while my other hand ran down his chest. He pushed me back down against the pillows and settled himself between my legs. I pushed my center up to meet his erection, and we both moaned at the contact.

His lips left mine again and traced a trail of wet kisses and soft nibbles from my jaw, to my neck, down to my chest. His hand cupped my breast over my bra and I arched my back, pressing myself into his hand. His other hand moved behind my back and deftly unhooked my bra, pulled the impeding material away from my body, and he flung it to the floor. His rough hands kneaded the skin at my waist, and he stuck his tongue out, flicking the ball of his piercing against my hard nipple. I gasped and pulled on his hair. He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked it noisily, then bit it lightly, and moved over to the next one. My eyes rolled back in my head at the feeling of his warm breath on my body.

"Hypocritical dickhead." I said breathily. Even if I was in throws of wild lust, I was still pissed at him, and I would make sure he knew it.

He brought his face back up to level with mine, grabbed my bottom lip between his teeth and sucked it.

"Grouchy fucking cunt." He retorted.

Our lips moved violently against each other, each of us desperately trying to gain the upper hand. I raked my fingernails down his chest roughly, making him shudder. I twirled my fingers through the hair below his navel before shoving my hand into his pants and wrapping it around him. His hips rocked automatically into my hand as it moved over his length. With my other hand, I pushed his briefs down.

His hands ghosted over my breasts, down across my ribs, to my hips. The panties I had on were lacy booty shorts held together by two thin strips of satin on each side. His fingers slipped under the strips; I felt my panties pull taut against my body, and heard the protesting of the fabric as it tore, then felt it fall slack again. I yelped. I fucking _yelped_ when he ripped my panties from my body. The bastard ripped my fucking panties off. And hell if it didn't make me even wetter.

He took his hard cock out of my hand and pressed it against my pussy, running the tip between my slick wet folds and against my clit, sending me writhing and making my eyes slip closed. I rocked my hips to create more friction, but he pulled away. My eyes snapped open, enraged at the loss of contact. He was staring down at me hard.

"Fucking tease." I griped.

He smiled smugly. _Oh, he thinks he's funny?_ So I grabbed his dick and pressed it against my sex, sliding my hand back and forth over it. I was the one smiling now as he shuddered and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Wait." He said weakly, pushing my hand away from him.

_Wait?_ Was he fucking serious?

He leaned over me and opened a drawer in his nightstand. I ran my hands up and down his arm, unable to keep my hands off of him for even a second. He came back to me with a little square of foil in his hand.

He leaned over me, reaching toward the nightstand. He opened the drawer and I ran my hands over his arm. I couldn't keep my hands off of him. He came back to me with a little square in his hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, panting, out of breath.

_Want_ wasn't even a question anymore. Looking into his eyes, I could tell that he knew as well as I did that there was no going back now. All the tension and frustration that had been plaguing us since the day we met had turned into a visceral need. I was beyond wanting him; I _needed_ him inside of me.

"No turning back now." I said softly, nodding. He nodded back and even in the dark, his eyes told me that he was just as helpless as I was.

I knew that I would feel guilty about this in the morning, that we would have a shitload of consequences waiting for us, and I was sure he was aware of that too. But we were too far gone in this to even care.

He put on the condom, and then leaned down to meet me in a feverish, insatiable kiss that had my head swimming. I reached down between us, taking hold of him and guiding him toward my opening. He pulled my legs up around his hips and pressed himself into me roughly. I gasped at the sensation of him filling me completely, and my nails dug into his back. He pressed his forehead to mine and we panted and moaned in sync as he pumped in and out of me rapidly.

"Harder, Edward. Fuck!" I cried.

"You like that baby?" He panted as he filled my request.

"Fuck yes. Oh… oh, Edward!"

He reached between us and stroked my clit in a steady, electrifying rhythm, making my body shudder. I ran the heels of my shoes along the back of his legs, and he hissed.

"Jesus Christ… shit, baby… so good."

"Edward." I cried his name over and over while our bodies rocked against each other's.

"Bella." He moaned into my ear. Hearing him saying my name in pleasure made the heat rise in my stomach. I knew I wouldn't last much longer. Ever second, every touch brought me closer to the edge.

"God. Don't stop… I'm so close… fuck, Edward, that's good."

"Come for me, Bella. Let me see you." He pulled his head back to look at me, and I opened my eyes.

His face was tight with forced control, and I knew he was holding himself back, waiting for me to let go first. With one last, delicious stroke, my hips bucked violently, my thighs squeezed around him, my walls tightened, my back arched off the bed, and I was coming.

I screamed his name as my orgasm washed through me. I felt him let go right after I did, pumping into me a final time, his whole body shuddering. I forced my eyes to stay open to watch him. His eyes slipped closed, and his forehead creased deeply, then relaxed completely as he groaned my name. He collapsed against my chest with his face in my neck.

I held him as we both came down, stroking his hair and his neck while we worked to catch out breaths. After a few minutes of lying like that, he raised himself up on his hands, kissed my lips softly, pulled out of me, and moved to lie beside me. He took off the condom and honestly, I couldn't tell you what the fuck he did with it. I was flying high.

I turned on my side to face Edward and scooted closer to him. He was lying on his back, and he wrapped one of his arms around me, pulling me to his side. I laid my head on his stomach and traced lazy patterns across his torso, pulling at the soft hair of his treasure trail. His hand ran a circuit through my hair, around my shoulder, down my arm and back again. I closed my eyes and sighed.

"That was incredible." He said huskily.

"That's an understatement." I giggled, surprised at how sultry my voice sounded.

"We're going to hate ourselves tomorrow." I could hear the anxious concern in his tone.

I flipped myself over, folding my arms on top of his chest with my chin resting on them, and stared up at him. "We'll deal with that in the morning." I said, pleading him with my eyes.

I didn't want to ruin this moment we had right now with worries. Tomorrow, we would have to pick up the pieces of the mess we just made. But tonight was ours, and I wanted to make it count.

He nodded and ran his fingers down my cheek to cup my chin. I propped myself on my hands and crawled up to meet him. He kissed me, but it wasn't as fierce as every other one we'd had tonight. It was soft, sweet, gentle, but firm. He pulled me flush to him and turned, so we were both lying on our sides, facing each other. Every inch of our bodies were molded together, like two puzzle pieces meant to fit. The kiss grew more intense and our legs tangled around each other. I slid one of my feet up along his leg, and then he pulled away, laughing.

"What?" I asked.

"Those shoes are so fucking sexy, but they hurt like hell."

"Sorry." I said sheepishly.

"Don't be." He whispered into my ear. "I like it..." He grazed my lobe with his teeth, making my whole body quiver.

His hand slid slowly down my ribs, over my hip, around my ass, down my thigh, and behind my knee. He hitched it up around his hip and ghosted his hand down my calf. He slipped off my shoe and dropped it to the floor behind him with a thud.

"But not for sleeping." He finished.

I smiled into a kiss and bent my other leg up behind me so I could reach my shoe and throw it to the floor. He pulled us up and pushed the covers down so we could get under them. We got into bed and pulled the covers up around us. I wrapped my arms around Edward's torso and tucked my face into his chest. As I settled into his embrace, the loud popping and crackling of fire works, and general chaos, sounded from outside. The clock had stuck twelve, and it was now a New Year. Edward squeezed me a little tighter in his arms and kissed my forehead.

"Happy New Year, Bell." He whispered into my hair.

I lifted my head and kissed his lips.

"Happy New Year, Edward."

I fell asleep in his arms, with no worries about tomorrow running through my mind. I was too preoccupied with being grateful for tonight.

*

**I promised you lemons, and there's your first one! Let me know what you think. I hope it was worth the wait for you guys. I'll post again as soon as I can.**

**  
Leave me lots of love until the next! Bye lovelies!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello lovelies. I know you've all been waiting a massive amount of time for this next chapter, and I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you'll enjoy it. Everything has been crazy in RL for months, but it's better now, and I'm glad I finally found the time to get this out to you guys. You've been so loyal and supportive of me, and I wish I could have gotten this to you sooner, but that's just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes. Well, enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. I just have fun playing around with them. Everything is property of Stephenie Meyer.  


**BPOV**

I opened my eyes to the first morning of the New Year, only to snap them shut again, slapping a hand over the top half of my face. The glowing, white light of another winter day streamed in through the window, and straight into my unadjusted retinas. That was the first indication that I wasn't in my own bed; I always drew the curtains before I went to sleep. Always.

I flipped over with my eyes still clamped tight, turning my back on the blinding light. As I moved, I felt a pair of arms pull me tighter against a warm body, and I smiled, burying my face into a muscular chest. I inhaled deeply, and sighed in contentment. All cinnamon, and clean, and Edward.

I opened my eyes hesitantly, as if the action would make him disappear before me. Of course, it didn't. I pulled my head back slightly to look at him, still sound asleep, lying on his side, facing me. His arms were securely around me, and had been for perhaps most of the night. I had never woken up in someone's arms before, not like this. But instead of being foreign, or making me uneasy, I just felt safe.

I studied the perfect lines of his sleeping face, completely aware that at any moment, he could open his eyes and catch me ogling. I couldn't help it, and in all honesty, I didn't really care. I was in nirvana.

The light from the window behind me illuminated half of his face, distorted by the shape of my shoulder on his skin. His long lashes cast shadows in oblong shapes across his cheekbones.

I lifted my hand and lightly stroked his cheek, his jaw, and felt the stubble that had grown there overnight. His mouth was slightly open, slack with sleep. I traced the light purple half moons beneath his eyes, the ones that never seemed to fully vanish. My fingers slipped down his cheek, his neck, and down to his chest where it twirled circles around the charm of his necklace. St. Jude. I remembered asking him about it, how he'd said he was a lost cause. I knew his reasons for that belief now.

I pressed my face into his neck and wrapped my arm around his torso, determined not to think of the events leading up to the moment when we lost control. I didn't want to think of what was to happen after, either. I knew that once this bubble broke, we would have to face the truckload of ugly truth on the other side. But for now, I would just remember.

So I thought over last night in detail, and couldn't help the blush that heated my cheeks or the smile that broke across my face.

His chest had been rising and falling steadily, and now, it expanded as he took in a deep breath. He let out a noise that was half yawn, half groan, and his arms flexed around me. He pulled me to him and pressed his lips to my forehead.

"Good morning." I murmured against his throat.

"Am I still asleep?" He asked groggily.

I laughed. "No."

"I must be. I have to be dreaming."

I pulled away from him and rested my head on the pillow, so we were face to face, only inches apart.

"If this was a dream, I doubt you'd be seeing me. This would qualify more as a nightmare." I whispered solemnly.

He lifted his hand and moved a stray piece of hair from my face. "You don't know how many dreams I've had exactly like this."

The blood that had not quite gone from my cheeks raced back vigorously, and I was suddenly occupied with the softness of the blue pillowcase. A warm feeling rose inside of me at hearing his words. He dreamt of me. What he didn't know was that I dreamt of him, too.

I looked at him, and he was staring at me, and even though his eyelids were still droopy from sleep, I could still see the intensity in his eyes.

"What?" I asked self consciously.

He shook his head. "I just can't believe you're really in my bed right now."

"Well, believe it." I said with a smirk.

"I'm glad you're here, Bella."

"Me too." I whispered, and placed my hands on his chest. He took them in his own and squeezed, then placed a kiss on the back of each one.

"It's good to hear you say that." He said with an air of genuine relief in his voice.

I stared into his face for a long moment, and realized how different it was then looking at him while he slept. When he was asleep, I couldn't see what I was doing to him. But as he was, awake and staring right back at me, I could see everything. He was so elated, so carefree and just so… happy. It was me who was making him feel that way at the moment, but only because of all the pain I had brought him prior to last night. He was happy because he thought he was finally making a breakthrough with me. I let him in, in more ways than one, and now, I could see it plain on his face, I had given him hope for what we could be. But we couldn't _be_ anything. His utter happiness brought out just the opposite in me. I felt my face go white, my heart start to beat triple time, and a cold sweat started to break out on the back of my neck. _I'm doing it again. When are you going to stop hurting him? When does it end?_ I was scared and anxious, and my baser instincts told me to run.

I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, facing away from him.

"I should get going." I said and began searching the floor for my clothes. I spotted my bra peeking out from underneath the bed and bent to snag it. I straightened. I felt the bed move as Edward came closer to me, and then his hand was at my waist, the other on my arm, and he pressed his lips to my shoulder. The contact made my heart skip a beat, and conversely, I stiffened.

"Don't go." He whispered.

"Why?" I asked hoarsely.

When he didn't say anything, I turned slightly toward him. He was still lying on the bed, propped up on his elbow with the sheet slung around his hips. He was so beautiful I could cry… God knows I wanted to.

"When you walk out the door, that's it. This," He said, motioning between us, "ends. And we have to deal with the fall out. I just…can we make this last as long as possible?"

I cocked my head to the side and furrowed my eyebrows, staring at the wall, considering. What was wrong with giving myself, giving him, just a few more hours of this? So what if it was bad for us, so what if it was confusing and wrong. The damage was already done… and if I was being honest, being with him was the most alive I'd felt in years. I realized for the first time that he had a way of not only breaking down my defenses, but morphing them, contorting them until the words that came out of his mouth made perfect sense to me.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to face him full on this time. His eyes were hopeful as they watched me, the way he always seemed to watch me. I pushed on his chest lightly, and he took the cue to lie back against the pillows. I crawled next to him and lay back down beside him.

"Okay." I said simply.

He leaned over me and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. My hand went into his hair and I kissed him back with fervor. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. I slipped my arms around him. I once again pressed my face into the comfort of his chest, and found myself clutching him tightly, my hands desperately seeking purchase on the smooth skin of his back. The desperation to get away from him had drifted and made way for an odd sensation had to take over me, and I was suddenly terrified of letting go of the simplistic moment we were sharing. No, that was the wrong way to put it. I wasn't scared of letting go; I was terrified of it being ripped away from me.

As if he had read my mind, his arms formed a cage around me, holding my body to his so tightly that it was hard to breathe. I didn't care. It was what I needed in that moment.

"Are you okay?" He asked after a long silence. His voice came out in a thick whisper, and he cleared his throat.

"Yeah. I'm fine." My voice was unconvincing, even to my own ears.

"Bella."

I sighed. He knew me too well. "I don't know." I answered so silently, I was unsure he had even heard me.

"I'm being selfish. You don't have to stay. If you want to leave, you can go. I'll miss you, but you're free to leave." He told me, and this time, the thickness in his voice had nothing to do with sleep.

When I didn't answer, he loosened his grip on me, and it made me instantly anxious. I looked up at him and he was looking at me with that penetrating gaze.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay with you. Just hold me, okay? I want you to hold me."

He simply nodded and gathered me into his arms again. I threw my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly and inhaling his scent. My anxiety went away; it was strange, the way I felt when he let me go. Almost like I was going to cry, cry out of grief and loss. It felt like, somehow, he was holding me together. I didn't want to fall apart.

He held me just like that for a while, stroking my arms, my back, the side of my waist. I felt him almost periodically press his mouth to me, kissing my hair, my forehead, my nose, and my cheeks. And for a little while, I pretended that it could always be like this. I imagined waking up beside him every day, watching his sleepy eyes open up like the break of dawn itself, and kissing him good morning. I'm a very practical person, and I don't usually indulge myself in such delusions. But it was what I needed right then, so I let myself believe, even though in the back of my mind I knew the picture I was painting was completely impossible.

"I didn't know you had another tattoo." Edward said suddenly, apropos of nothing. I looked up at him and furrowed my eyebrows.

He lifted up the covers and traced his fingers over the ink on my right hip, the black bird in mid-flight with ripping bandages wrapped around its wings, tearing and falling away as it took off.

"That was my first one." I said.

"You like birds?" He asked a little sarcastically with one eyebrow raised.

I laughed. "I guess so. But… I don't know. There's a reason I got it, but it's probably stupid. I was sixteen." I shrugged.

"Let's hear it."

I sighed insecurely. "Okay. Well, you know that song 'Blackbird' by-"

"The Beatles." He smirked. "Naturally."

I smiled. "Yeah. The lyrics go, blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly, and… they felt really relevant to me at the time, you know? I guess they still do, but back then I was in a really bad place, my life sucked, and I just felt really, really broken. But I knew I would get out. I _had_ to get out. This was kind of just a reminder of that, to always let me know that one day, my wounds would heal, and I'd… fly away." I finished lamely.

"That's not stupid." He told me fervently.

I shrugged. "What about you? I didn't know you had _any_ tattoos."

"Yeah. The one on my back I started when I was 18 and finished on my twentieth birthday." He sat up and turned his back to face me. There was a huge tattoo there that covered almost his entire back. A lion stood in the center, turned to the side and up on two legs with its paws raised in the air. It stood underneath a hand, and on top of a banner with three three-leaf clovers. The entire tattoo was in black and gray ink, shaded beautifully, and it looked like a crest of some kind.

"It's the Cullen family crest. I changed my last name when I was sixteen. It felt right to get it. It's kind of my way of paying tribute to my family."

"That's something." I said, tracing my fingertips over the intricate details in the lions fur. "It must've hurt."

He shrugged. "Not too badly." He said, and lay back down on his back.

I put my hand on his chest and stroked the skin over his left peck, where I could now clearly see the shape that was lost to me in the darkness the night before. It was a big red bird with flames in its eyes and surrounding its feet. "And this one?" I asked.

He swallowed audibly, and put his hand over mine, holding it to his chest. "It's a Phoenix. The legend goes that when a Phoenix dies, he bursts into flames-"

"And is reborn from the ashes." I finished.

"You know the story?" I shrugged and nodded. He nodded once and stared up at the ceiling. "I got it when I got out of rehab the second time."

The words hung in the air between us, both heavy and buoyant, solid and intangible. After a few moments, I leaned over him and forced him to look at me. "Tell me, Edward. I want to know everything."

He shook his head. "I never meant for you to find out that way. I swear, I-"

"I don't care, okay?" I soothed, rubbing his rough cheek. "Just tell me."

He sucked in a deep breath, and for a long moment, I thought he would never let it out. But then, slowly, he did. I looked into his face while he pointedly avoided looking at mine.

"I need a cigarette." He said abruptly."

I felt the familiar craving for nicotine assault me just as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Great idea."

He stood up, walked over to hi dresser, and started opening drawers. I was fascinated for a moment with watching the way his naked body moved across the room, his perfection amplified in the luminous white light. The strong muscles on his back stretched and flexed, making his tattoo bounce and dance, as he pulled on a pair of sweat pants. I shook my head to clear it and picked my jaw up off of the floor. I stood up, realizing I should probably get dressed, too. I looked around the floor, and saw my panties and bra, but no actual clothes.

"I seemed to have misplaced my dress." I said, raising my eyebrows.

He looked back over his shoulder at me noncommittally, turned back around, and then did a double take. I was standing beside the bed completely nude. His eyes were wide and bugging out, and his jaw dropped a little. His mouth began to move but no sound came out, as if he were trying to speak but couldn't find a way to form words. I blushed deeply and averted my eyes to the floor. I grabbed my panties and held them out in front of me. Oh yeah, I thought as I saw the loose shredded threads. Ripped. The scene from last night flashed behind my eyes, and I blushed even more deeply. I spotted his green boxers from the night before and snagged them.

"Seeing as these are destroyed…" I tossed the ripped cloth at him, and it only glanced off his chest and fell lamely to the floor. I put my legs through his briefs, one at a time, and pulled them up, thoroughly aware that he was watching me the whole time. When I had them on, I looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. "Spare a t-shirt?" I asked.

He gained his composure, his lips moving into a sexy little crooked smirk. He reached into one of his drawers and threw me a black t-shirt. I pulled it on over my head and then looked down at the front of it. Alice in Chains. _Great fucking taste in music._

Edward walked toward where I was standing on the side of the bed. As he came closer, I saw the sudden burning intensity in his emerald eyes, recognized the promises in his stance, pledging things that my body ached for over and over again. My breath hitched in my throat. Seeing my discomfort, that infuriatingly sexy playful little smirk spread wider across his lips. I backed up clumsily as he came closer to me, our eyes never breaking contact. I walked backwards until I felt my legs hit the nightstand. He was right in front of me now, close enough to touch, close enough that if I reached out, my hand could caress the perfect pale skin of his chest, the powerful contours of his arms. He closed the rest of the gap between us, and as he placed his hands on the nightstand on either side of me, I felt my body quiver and my breathing kick up a notch. He bent his head and, ever so slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pressed his lips to the side of my neck. I closed my eyes and my tongue flicked out to lick my lips. Then, as quickly as it happened, he was gone. I opened my eyes to see him walking away from me, leaving me hot and bothered and craving. As he retreated, I spotted the pack of cigarettes in his hand that had been on the nightstand behind me.

"Fucking tease." I mumbled under my breath. He shot a deliberate glance over his shoulder, and his eyes crinkled with humor. So fucking funny, Edward, really.

"Come on." I followed him through his apartment and out the window on to the fire escape.

Edward cupped his hand around the end of his cigarette, and sparked the little blue lighter. The end caught fire and he handed the lighter to me. I shook my head. I had just smoked one, and so had he, but obviously one just wasn't enough for this morning. He shoved the lighter and the pack into the pocket of his sweats, and I watched the smoke curl away from his lips and float up toward the white washed sky. We'd been sitting in silence for just a few minutes, but it was a loaded silence, and it felt like hours.

"So-" I started, but he interrupted me.

"I didn't want you to find out that way." He repeated his words from earlier, and I nodded. I believed him. "I don't know if I would've told you otherwise… and I'm sorry about that. I never lied to you, I guess I just omitted the facts."

"There seems to be a lot of that going around." I said, and it wasn't a judgment or a reprimand. I said it guiltily, understandingly. I couldn't be mad at him anymore, despite how angry and hurt I felt last night. He didn't have to tell me in so many words for me to understand why he didn't tell me until it was unavoidable; the same reasons I hadn't wanted to tell him I was a call girl. Fear. Fear of losing this tenuous, inexplicable, deep thing we had formed between us.

"I get it. It's okay. I just need to know."

He turned to me, looking at me as if he were seeing me, _really_ seeing me, for the first time. Then his eyes softened, and for the first time, I saw the true vulnerability behind the man beside me. Even before he opened his mouth to speak, I knew it was going to be a painful story.

He took a long drag of his smoke and stared out into the street for a long time. When he started the story, I jumped a little, his solemn voice breaking the silence.

"I guess the way to start is with what you already know, what I told you before. Foster care was hell. When I was twelve, I got to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. So I ran away."

"Where did you go?"

A smile that was not in any way happy tightened his lips. "Everywhere. Nowhere." He scoffed. "At first, I would stay over at my friends houses, but that didn't last long. I didn't want their parents catching on. If they figured it out and called the school or the system on me, I'd be sent right back. I wouldn't risk it." He shook his head. "I couldn't go back there. So I'd stay in shelters sometimes, abandoned buildings, under bridges… hell, I spent more nights than I can even tell you just on a bench in the park. Sleeping. In the park. Twelve years old."

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment as visions of a pre-teen Edward, homeless and hungry with no place to call home, assaulted my brain. It took everything I had inside of me not to cry. When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me, his face questioning.

I cleared my throat "G-go on." I encouraged, taking his hand in mine. He spared me a small smile, took another drag of his cigarette, and continued.

"It doesn't take long for a street kid to run into the wrong kind of people. All the guys I hung around with, they were just like me. Not exactly, but they knew what it was like. I met this one guy, Randall. He was a few years older than me, but he was in the same position. I could relate to him, and I was young… I was a lonely kid, and I needed to have _someone_, as stupid as that sounds. So I started hanging around with him and his group of friends a lot. They made me feel like I belonged somewhere, I guess." He sighed. "They were pretty deep into drugs then, really, really deep, and…" He looked at me with wide eyes. "I mean, I was 12. I wanted to fit in with them, to be accepted. I know that's not a valid excuse, but I was a kid. A child" He sounded panicky.

I nodded understandingly and squeezed his hand. That seemed to calm him a bit, to reassure him that I was listening, and not judging.

"In the beginning, it wasn't too serious. I started off with smoking weed, drinking alcohol. They'd offer me other things, but I never wanted to try it. I was scared." He took a pull from his cigarette, and the way he dragged it scared me, as if he was swimming in the ocean in the middle of a storm and was desperately sucking in any oxygen he could savor anytime his head broke the surface. "And then they started hassling me about it. Calling me a baby, a pussy, and I was afraid they wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore if I didn't prove myself to them and do what they wanted me to." He shrugged. "So I tried coke. And from there… name any drug under the sun, and I'm sure I've tried it. I earned money doing odd jobs around the city, working at pizza shops, moving boxes, painting houses, whatever I could get. And when I couldn't find work, me and my "friends", I could hear the quotation marks in his tone, "would break into houses. I'm not proud of that, but I was desperate. I was continually getting deeper and deeper into the habit, and eventually, I moved on to heroin, because it was cheap. I was hooked by the time my 13th birthday came around."

"Heroin?" My eyes widened, and instinctively moved to his arms. I'd never noticed any scars, or track marks, but then again, I hadn't exactly been looking.

"I didn't shoot it." He told me, and I felt a little bit bad about my obvious inspection. "There are other ways of doing it." He said, and tapped his nose with his index finger.

"Oh." I breathed out, understanding.

"Anyways, that was my life for a while, and then I was fourteen, still living on the streets. Randy and the guys came to me one day… I can still remember the look on their faces, how excited they were when they told me about the robbery we were going to pull. It wasn't like all the others though, this time, they wanted to rob a dealer. The plan was for me to do it, because I was the smallest, and I could fit through the basement window, the one they propped open. We executed the plan, and I came out with a… a just massive amount of dope, way more than we expected to be there. I'd never seen so much of anything in my life. They were all so proud of me and I was over the moon. I had stars in my eyes, I felt like I had just hit the mother load, and I finally earned the respect of the guys. We celebrated…" He trailed off, and I knew what he meant. "The celebration lasted for days. I was such an idiot about it, and on one of those days, I did a whole lot more of it than I could handle." He took a deep breath. "I ended up overdosing. And they… the guys who were supposed to be my friends, my family, they just left me there. Lying on the sidewalk in the middle of the day in Chicago, almost dead."

Tears filled my eyes as the borrowed images flashed through my mind, and I couldn't fight them this time. Edward threw his cigarette over the railing and turned to look at me.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked gently.

I shook my head and scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. "No. No, go on. I need to hear all of it." I nodded like a bobble head doll and tried to muster a smile. Apparently, it was as unconvincing to him as it felt to me. He put his arm around me and pulled me closer to his side. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Someone must have found me there, I guess, and called an ambulance. The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed. Carlisle was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. He was my doctor."

"So that's how you met?" I asked, my voice thick with the sobs caught in my throat. I cleared it.

"Yeah." He looked down at me and smiled slightly, a genuine one this time. "He told me that he lost me twice. I died on the table two times before they got me stabilized. By some miracle, he was able to save me. I tell you, Bella, I don't think I would've made it, had it been any other doctor."

That possibility made bile rise in the back of my throat, effectively clearing away the thickness there. It made me sick to think about him not being here with me right now.

"I was a real asshole, though. I refused to tell anyone at the hospital my real name- I knew they'd send me back to foster care. Carlisle was very nice, and understanding to me. He came to see me at least once a day, even when he was off duty, just to talk. For a while, I wouldn't open up to him. I didn't have the best track record with trusting people, but he kept at it… I don't know why, but he did. He was candid and up front with me about a lot of shit, so it made it easy to let him in. He's just a really, genuinely, goodhearted man, you know? The kind of man you always wished your father would be like. The kind of man I wish I was."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him he was that man, but I held back. This was his story, and he had to tell it to me the way it was in his memory, without any editorializing from me. But another thought occurred to me just then, and I had to ask the question on my mind.

"What about your friends? Did they come to see you at all?"

He laughed without humor. "Those guys? No. They left me to die in the middle of the street, and I never saw them again."

It was silent for a moment while I contemplated the kind of friends who only stick by your side as long as its convenient for them. I knew the type.

"Eventually, I told Carlisle my name, and the reasons why I didn't want to tell him in the first place. He listened to me and… the thing that stood out to me the most was how compassionate he was. I felt like he really understood me. I guess you could say we bonded a lot over the time I spent in the hospital. A few days after that, the day I was supposed to get out, he came to see me and gave me an offer; if I agreed to go to rehab, and got clean, he and his wife would take me in, adopt me. I couldn't believe it. I was blown away. And of course, I was skeptical, but it seemed like he really wanted to help me. I didn't exactly trust him, but he never gave me a reason not to. So we made the agreement. I went to rehab, I got cleaned up, and the day I was released, he was waiting for me in the lobby, ready to take me home. To his mansion." He shook his head disbelievingly. "I went from being a junkie street kid, and orphan, to living in a mansion and becoming a part of this tight knit family. Talk about a transition."

I could only imagine the kind of whirlwind that would have been for him.

"I was reluctant at first. I mean, don't get me wrong, Esme, Emmett, Jasper… they were all amazing. They welcomed me in with open arms. And I liked Carlisle, admired him, and was more than grateful to him for what he did for me, but… I couldn't bring myself to trust, you know? That was the biggest obstacle. When you're basically hardwired from birth to trust no one but yourself, it's a hard habit to break." I nodded in eager understanding. That was something I could identify with entirely. "I hung out with Em and Jazz all the time, they became brothers to me almost instantly, but still, I kind of felt like an outsider, no matter how welcome they made me feel. I guess there were just a lot of things to try and get used to, everything happened so fast. They were patient with me, all of them. And once I started to really trust Carlisle, things got a whole lot easier." A small smile played on his lips, and an unfamiliar gleam came into his eyes.

"Esme, my mother, she's such a loving person. She has the biggest heart I've ever known. She was absolutely adamant that we bonded." He laughed shortly, carefree, and I could see the love he had for his adoptive mother light him up like I'd never seen a person light up before. It made me a little jealous, but the feeling was fleeting, almost nonexistent. Really.

"She used to teach piano lessons when she was in college, she's an amazing pianist. She started teaching me how to play. I loved the piano and I loved spending time with Esme. But I was terrible at it at first." He started to laugh. "I remember one time I was playing so badly, Carlisle came running down the stairs like a bat out of hell, so distraught and worried. He thought Esme was having convulsions or something while she was playing. That's how horrible I was."

I laughed along with him. "Obviously the practice paid off, though."

"Yeah, due to a lot of patience on my mom's part. I didn't deserve all the effort she put in, but I'm glad she did." And there it was, bleeding back into his face the way the clouds move across the sky, stealing the sunlight from the day. Self-loathing. "I'll never deserve what any of them have given me."

"You got better." I soothed. "You earned a new chance at life, Edward."

"Earned? No. I was handed a chance." He shrugged. "And I wrecked it." The disgust was naked in his voice, and I hated that he felt that way. But then I processed what he was saying, and a light bulb went off.

"The relapse…" I whispered.

He made a gagging sound in the back of his throat that I'm almost sure was involuntary. "Yes. _That._"

"What…" I started, but he abruptly let go of his hold on me and stood up. He climbed back through the window, and after a moment, I followed him. When I got inside he was nowhere in sight, but I could see that the bathroom door was closed and could hear the water faucet. I sat down on the couch and waited.

A couple of minutes passed before he emerged, his hair damp and his eyes wild. I could tell by the decreasing rise and fall of his chest that he was worked up over revisiting the past. I felt guilty for his suffering, and selfish for opening up his old wounds while refusing to even scratch the scabs off of my own. But painful or not, his body language as he walked over to stand in front of me told me that we both knew these were things he needed to tell me, painful or not, unfair as it was.

His eyes locked with mine and, wordlessly, he cupped my face gently between his strong hands. I put my right hand over his left one and stroked his knuckles with my thumb. I hooked my fingers through his and stood up, leading him across the room to his bed. I pushed him down on to the mattress and curled up beside him. He kissed me on the mouth, long and hard and unexpected, and when we broke apart I was breathless.

"Will you tell me about it?" I asked him when I could breathe again.

He sighed and threw an arm over his eyes, his breathing labored for a whole different reason now. I thought he would stay that way forever as the minutes ticked by. His reluctance made me nervous, but I pushed the emotions away. This wasn't about me right now, it was about him.

When he spoke again, it was abrupt, and I jumped a little at the hoarseness in his tone. "Everything was going great for a long time. I graduated from high school, and my GPA wasn't exactly great, but it wasn't terrible. Good enough that if I wanted, I could get into a really good school. I had a girlfriend who I'd been with since sophomore year, a family that loved me and I loved back. My life was pretty much as close to perfect as it could ever be, all things considered. I was 19 when Carlisle got offered the job in New York, and I was actually excited for the change. We moved here, and Rosalie came with us, but Tanya… my ex… she stayed in Chicago. We did the long distance thing for a while, but after me and Rose opened up the shop, she knew things were getting to be permanent here. So she made the move. I was really happy." He sounded wistful, for the happiness or the girl or both, I didn't know. My heart ached with sorrow for him, and a strange prick of selfish jealousy.

"Things changed after she lived here for a few months, though. We started arguing and fighting all the time, and I… I just… I couldn't give her what she wanted from me. She was pushing me and I handled it badly. I should've just… I don't know what I should've done, but I didn't do the right thing. I was stressing out a lot, and it was so stupid, but I…" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the hand that wasn't over his eyes balling into a fist at my waist. "I turned back to the drugs. I was 21. I know they all had their suspicions, but it was months before anyone really realized what was going on with me. I fucked up so badly. I stole money, jewelry, anything I could get my hands on, from my parents and my brothers. From Tanya. When they confronted me about it, I was high, and I almost beat the shit out of Carlisle. My father, Bella. The man who changed my life."

I sat there in silence, nodding my head for him to continue, even though I knew he couldn't see me. His arm was still over his eyes, his head turned away from me. I put my hand on his chest softly, and he shuddered under my touch. Self consciously, I pulled my hand back quickly like I'd just touched a hot burner. He grabbed my hand with his free one and put it back to his chest, clutching it there tightly. He took in yet another deep breath and held it in for what seemed like hours. When he finally let it out, in one huge gust, and removed his arm from his eyes, he turned to look at me. His eyes were gleaming, hesitant. I noticed the difference in his telling of this part of the story right from the beginning, how vague and evasive he was when speaking of the circumstances surrounding his relapse. There was definitely more to the story than he was going to tell me, but I had already expected that. Getting to know Edward was different than Edward getting to know me. I knew how difficult I was for him, making him peel me back layer by layer. But with him, I learned in chunks. Only the chunks he wanted me to see.

"I was back on the stuff for about half a year, give or take, before I got my shit together and realized I needed help. Esme and Carlisle cut off my trust fund as soon as they knew I was using again, and that was probably the best thing they could've done. I was broke and pathetic and completely worthless. I still am two of those things. I went to Carlisle and told him that I wanted to get help. I wouldn't have blamed him if he told me to fuck off, that he already gave me a shot, that it was my responsibility to take care of myself. But he didn't. He helped me. He saved me. Again." He shook his head. "He's always going to be here for me. Always. And I always fuck it up." Then, so low I was almost certain he was talking to himself rather than me, "I'm no fucking good."

I shook my head, avidly disputing the words that came out of his mouth with everything I had. "No. You _are _good, Edward. Do you know how many people in that same position make the choice to just continue living their life that way? You knew you needed help, and you got it. That's the strongest thing anyone could ever do, and you did it. You're not bad or pathetic or worthless. Me, I'm all of those things, okay? But you're none of them."

He laughed once, and it was a tired, almost defeated sound. "You're gold, Bella. When are you going to take the blinders off and see that?"

I acted as though he hadn't spoken. "If everything you just told me was to change my perception of you in any way, it only makes me respect you more. So many things are a lot clearer now." It wasn't a lie.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you." He said softly.

I took his hand in my own and squeezed it tightly. "I forgive you."

And in that moment, I knew that I did. I forgave him, and more than that, I trusted him. This man was bigger part of me now than I wanted to admit.

He looked into my eyes, his green pools smoldering brightly, like green lava. "Bella, I know-"

I cut him off by pressing my finger to his lips. "Shhh. Don't." I sat up and moved closer to him, swinging my leg over him to straddle his hips. I replaced my finger with my lips and kissed him long hard and deep, conveying in that action all that I couldn't possibly put into words. Everything I was feeling in that moment, moving on my lips and pressing into his.

His hands explored my body, stripping his clothes off of me piece by piece until I was naked on top of him. I pulled his shirt off over his head and pressed kisses to his chest as I worked my way down to his sweatpants. Those came off, too, and I lifted up slightly, moaning as I lowered myself down on to him. As I moved over him, feeling the electrifying friction in every inch of my body, everything melted away, and the world began and ended at the edges of the bed. We spent the next few hours without a care in the world, throwing everything else out of our minds and just getting lost in each other.

**EPOV**

"We should come with a warning label." Bella said thoughtfully, as another rerun of Jackass began playing on the screen, and Steve-O told us not to try all the stupid shit they were about to do at home.

We were lying on the couch, wrapped up in nothing but the sheet from my bed and each other. I had Bella between my legs, lying back against my chest with her head on my shoulder. Her skinny fingers moved up and down my chest idly.

"What?" I asked, a little bewildered.

She looked up at me with a smirk and one eyebrow quirked. "Contents should not be left unattended under pressure."

I laughed wholeheartedly and squeezed her. "That's a good one." I pressed my lips into her hair.

She was laughing, too. "I'm serious, though. Every time we're alone under tense circumstances, we cause some kind of mess."

I smiled down at her. She returned the gesture shortly, then took her bottom lip between her teeth in that hesitant, nervously charming way she had about her.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She shook her head and smiled, ruefully I thought. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." She answered, and she seemed genuinely shocked by the idea that nothing _was _wrong, not for the moment. But I could tell that she meant it.

Almost reflexively, she relaxed against me, her body melting into mine. She stared up at me with those big brown eyes from her place on my shoulder. The perfect way she fit into my arms was fucking unreal. We were like corresponding pieces of the same puzzle. There was no doubt in my mind that she belonged here, with me.

At least for right now, the calm between us didn't seem as thinly brittle as it usually did in moments like this, when she let her guard down and didn't fight what I knew she felt for me. Usually, I could feel how tenuous it was, I feared it, like one word could send the whole thing crashing down around us. There was no more walking on eggshells; something had changed between us when we lost control last night. I was almost certain that everything from that moment on would be open and honest, now that we both had our cards on the table. But I wasn't foolish enough to think that it would be simple.

We lay there for a while longer, just holding on to each other and watching Johnny Knoxville and all of his half-baked disciples doing fucked up shit on the TV. The faint sound of Tiny Dancer filtered in from the hallway, and Bella groaned. Reluctantly, she unwound herself from my arms and stood up, stealing the sheet from me. She held it haphazardly around her, clutching it in front as she shuffled toward the hall. She threw me a playful glance over her shoulder as she went, and for a second, I swear I stopped breathing.

Naked, I sat up and ran my hands over my face and through my hair. It blew my mind that I was with her last night, that somehow we had gotten to the point where everything just blew up and we needed to be together. I didn't know how it had gotten to that point exactly, what it was about the anger that made us both snap and break. I realized that I would probably do better not to think about it, not to try and make sense of or overanalyze it. It happened, for one reason or another… no matter how unbelievable, it happened. And I was happy it did.

Another thing I couldn't believe was that she knew about my past now. She _knew_. Maybe not everything, but pretty damn close to it. More than I had ever told anybody who wasn't there to witness it first hand. And she didn't even judge me, she wasn't disgusted by me, she didn't run away or leave, or even hesitate after all was said and done. She understood, or at least tried to, as much as she could. She wasn't even angry with me anymore for keeping it from her. It made me feel guilty for the way I treated her when I found out about her "job", that I couldn't be as accepting as she was. Thinking back on it, I knew I should have been a little more… I don't know… understanding, maybe. But it honestly wasn't the same thing. The idea of her being with any other guy killed me, it felt like a knife twisting in my gut every time she walked out that door to go on a call. I suppose finding out that the guy you're fighting feelings for is a _former_ junkie is probably a little more acceptable than finding out the girl you're… falling for? I guess I was… _is_ a call girl. I didn't want to think about that, though.

I pushed it out of my mind and took my head out of my hands when I heard Bella's footsteps padding toward me. The blue sheet was secured around her now, tucked in between her breasts so that her hands were free. She pressed a button on her phone and the ring tone cut off.

"You ignored Alice?" I asked incredulously. "Oooh. I'm telling." I joked. But from what I knew of Alice, which was becoming a lot, Bella had some balls to do that.

She shrugged. "She'll get over it." She pressed a few more buttons on the keypad. After a few seconds, her phone chimed three times before the screen turned black. "I texted her and said I was still sleeping." She tossed it on to the coffee table, already forgotten. I knew we were on the same page. The outside world could wait; as far as I was concerned, it didn't even exist.

Bella moved to stand in front of me, her cloaked body positioned between my legs. Her arms snaked around my neck and one went into the back of my hair. My hands roamed up her sides and to the place where she had the sheet fastened. I untucked the corner of the sheet and pulled it away from her body, letting it slip to the floor slowly and reveal the perfection beneath.

"You're fucking gorgeous." I breathed as I devoured her with my eyes. It would never cease to amaze me how dumbstruck her beauty still made me; she was so absolutely beautiful that it hurt just a little more each time I saw her. I knew I would never be able to get enough of her. I just wanted more, to hold her and never let go, to forget about our lives outside of my apartment forever, to just stay here and feel each other until the world ended, or we died; whatever came first.

She smiled sheepishly at me and blushed. It was so fucking adorable the way she always became bashful whenever I complimented her.

"You're so sweet." She said, and leaned forward, bending her leg at the knee and kneeling it down beside my thigh on the couch. Her other leg followed, and she was straddling me.

"I'm just speaking the truth." I cupped her chin and pulled her lips to mine.

It was frenzied, feral, the way I wanted her; the way I _needed_ her. I let my hands slip down to her waist and I gripped her hips. She lifted herself up automatically, then lowered herself onto me with a guttural moan escaping from the back of her throat. I pulled back and watched her as we collided in the most delicious way. I catalogued the way her hair fell in her face, the way she took her breathing hitched and her eyes slipped closed as she moved over me. She bit down on her bottom lip and I groaned. She was the sexiest woman I had ever met in my life, everything she did drove me crazy. It was frenzied, feral, the way I wanted her; the way I needed her. It was as if there were an electric current flowing between us at all times, busy but invisible, and every time our bodies connected the way they were now, the hum was almost so strong, it was intoxicating.

I pressed my lips to her neck and kissed her to the swell of her breasts and back again. She dug her nails into my shoulders while her hips moved faster and her breathing grew heavier. Her hair bounced against her shoulders, the little line between her eyes grew deeper, and I knew she was close. I grabbed onto her hips and bounced her a little faster, making her moan my name. Her nails bit into the skin of my back again, and I felt her whole body tremble and rock in succession with the breathless sigh from her lips. My orgasm rocked through me at full force, and I was left laughing breathlessly through my gasps for air. She leaned her head against my shoulder, still straddling me, as we both caught our breath.

When our breathing slowed, I pulled her down sideways and held her in my arms. She clung to me, rubbing her hands up and down my back. I pressed my lips to her forehead and smiled into her hair. She was different with me for right now, and I knew we had reached the point where there was no going back to how we were. She was still Bella, though, every bit as messed up and complicated as ever. But I didn't care. I was fucked up and she was fucked up, that's just the way it was, there was no changing that. I wanted us to be fucked up together, as selfish as that sounded. We could push each other, make each other better. I was already a better person when I was with her. Maybe it was because I had to be a better person _for _her. I was willing to do that. I'd be willing to move the earth for her, if that's what it took.

She untangled herself from me and sat up a few minutes later. She shot a glance over her shoulder, down at me, and I could read the reluctance in her eyes. I knew that she didn't want to, but she had to go.

"I have to get to my place." She said softly. "The cat…"

"I know." I told her. "Duty calls."

She smiled, leaned over to kiss my lips, then stood up and walked over to the bed. I sat up and followed her with my eyes.

"It's really too bad about these." She said, picking up a wad of black fabric off the ground and holding them out. Her panties. "They were one of my favorite pairs." Her bottom lip jutted out a little as she said it.

"Yeah, I liked them too." I answered playfully. She looked up with a smirk and threw them at me, just like she had this morning. I caught it deftly and held them out in front of me. Images of her in them from last night flashed behind my eyes, and I smiled wider. "Ooh. Souvenir."

She blushed and bent down to pick something up from the floor. But of course, I didn't know what it was because I was too occupied with watching her bend over. _Those legs, that ass, Jesus fucking Christ._

"Since you ripped mine, I get to keep yours." She said sassily, and I looked up to see her holding my green briefs in her hand.

"They're yours."

"Good." She smiled, and stepped into my boxers. She pulled them up over her hips, slow and sexy in her movements, deliberately driving me crazy. She pulled on the same Alice in Chains shirt I'd given her to wear earlier. I felt my dick twitch just looking at her, standing there in my clothes.

I got up, pulled on my sweatpants, and walked over to her. She smiled at me, then walked past me toward the door, picking up her things; phone, her bag, dress, shoes, and hair clip; that were strewn all over the apartment. I followed her to the hallway. She was facing the door, and I put my hands on her waist. She bent over to put everything in a pile on the floor next to the door, straightened, and turned to face me.

Almost instinctively, she reached her arms up around my neck and I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her to me. I hugged her tightly and buried my face into her hair one last time, inhaling deeply the smell of her, savoring it. When she pulled away from me, she arched her neck upward and I planted a kiss on her lips. It started out soft and innocent, and then our tongues were dancing fiercely with each other. We broke apart abruptly, leaving us both gasping for air.

"Okay. I have to go."

"Okay." I nodded, our foreheads pressed together.

She pulled away and walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob, and froze there. She looked back over her shoulder at me, the worry line between her eyes creasing deeply. Her bottom lip was sucked in between her teeth, and I got the feeling that she was almost afraid to walk out the door. Then, she released the knob and came running back toward me, throwing herself into my arms. I caught her just as her lips met mine and she kissed me again, long, hard, and needy. She let me go and turned to walk away, but I grabbed her hand, pulling her back to me for one more kiss. This time, when we broke the kiss, I held her face in my hands, but she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"I have to go." She whispered.

"I'll see you later." It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.

"Yeah." She said softly, but something in her tone was making me nervous.

"Bella-"

"See you later." She blurted, turned her head to press a kiss to my palm, and then she turned around for the door. She picked her pile of things up off of the floor and was out the door almost as quickly as she could open it. And then she was gone, and for the first time in a long time, for some reason I couldn't put my finger on, I felt completely empty and alone.

**BPOV**

I closed the door behind me and stood with my back pressed against the door, staring into my apartment. Everything looked fuzzy to me, gray and stagnant. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath, and when I let it out, it came in broken, shaky spurts.

Out from under the magnetic grip of his presence, the sensationalizing fell away, and I was left with cold hard facts. My guilty, selfish mind left me no room to let myself reflect on last night and this morning at face value. It had been amazing, every second we'd spent together, and I'd be lying straight through my teeth to say anything otherwise. We'd broken through layers and Edward had told me something monumental about his life. But I let my feelings get away from me, I'd let anger trump rational thought and ended up losing control. That was a fatal mistake that would wind up hurting the both of us.

Lost in thought, I jumped when I felt something soft press against my bare ankle. I looked down and saw Paul staring up at me, and there was something about the way his eyes glowed up at me in the muted light that made him look angry. I supposed he was pissed at me; I hadn't come home to feed him, after all. He must be starving.

I bent down to scoop him up in my arms and carried him into the kitchen, nuzzling him the whole way. He showed me no affection, just mewed and sniffed my chin. Definitely mad at me.

I poured P his food and water and tried to make it up to him by scratching him in his favorite spot right above his tail, and though he arched his back and pressed the spot into my hand, he just kept eating and virtually ignoring my presence. Such a stubborn little boy.

I gave up on trying to make amends with my cat for the time being and started going through the motions of the morning… well, afternoon now. I put on a pot of coffee, went out for a cigarette, then stripped out of my clothes and threw them in the laundry basket. I walked halfway to the bathroom and then stopped. I turned around and marched right back over to the dirty clothes. I took the ones I had thrown in there back out again and examined them. Edward's clothes. Tentatively, I held his t-shirt to my face and took an exploratory whiff. It smelled just like him, just exactly like him, as if he were standing there next to me. The strength of the feeling that rocked through me nearly threw me off balance.

I closed my eyes and thought about the way his big, rough hands felt on every inch of my skin, the feel of his scruffy chin against my cheeks, the burning intensity of his beautiful eyes every time he looked at me. And most of all, the way my body felt each time he brought me to the edge, and sent me flying off, carefree, with the air beneath my wings. Being with him was honestly the first orgasm I'd had in months. Even though I wasn't numb anymore, I still fought to not feel when I was with clients. I made myself reject it, push it away until it wasn't even a possibility anymore. But I felt every glorious, amazing, disarming moment I'd had with Edward.

I held the shirt in my hand a few seconds longer, then I folded it and laid it on the edge of my bed. I went to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and hopped inside.

As soon as the water hit my face, it was like a violent rubber band, snapping back to reality. Words. Words I had stuffed down and tried to forget about between last night and this morning assaulted my ears, as if they were being spoken now. Words that were unshakeable and true. Rosalie's voice played over and over again in my mind, each time stinging a little worse than the last.

It wasn't just what she said last night, that wasn't the worst of it. It was remembering what she had said to me that day in the diner, when she was trying to ward me off Edward without revealing the facts about his addiction. They were all so very clear now, and I couldn't help but agree with her even more now. I was bad for him in more ways than I could have ever possibly imagined. She was right. And what had last night, this morning included, done? Nothing but cause more pain. Nothing but prove her right.

I couldn't stand anymore. I slipped slowly down the tile wall until I was sitting on the floor of the tub. I pulled my knees to my chest and began to cry.

I would be his downfall. I would break him. But he was changing me. I was different now, and there was no denying it, no turning back. I wasn't the Bella I had been that day that he showed up at my apartment to use my phone. Was that really just three months ago? It felt like a lifetime. It felt as if he had been apart of me forever, and I just hadn't known it.

And still, even as I sat there and cried, watching my tears mix with the hot water and wind their way down the drain, I could feel the gears starting to turn inside of me. I felt myself reaching, groping desperately to reassemble the pulverized pieces of the walls I had built around myself so long ago.

**I love you all, loyal readers, and will try my damndest, come hell or high water, to have another post to you within the next few weeks to a month. I hope this wasn't a disappointment after the long wait, and I hope you'll continue to stick with this story. Like I've said before, I will NOT abandon it. No matter how long it takes for me to get a post up, this story WILL continue until the very end. I'm committed to it, and to you, my lovelies!**

**Leave me some lovings. Goodbye for now!**


End file.
